Falling Into Hogwarts
by C a Girl
Summary: R for language. When Gwen, a college students awakes in her sixth year at Hogwarts adventure, suspense, comedy and romance ensue.
1. Falling Into Hogwarts

Episode One

Part One

It was a slow afternoon and Gwen was sitting quietly in her dorm room, leafing through _Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone for perhaps the eighth time. She was feeling kind of hazy, a little ominous premonition and Harry accompanied by a little Jimmy Eat World seemed to be the only thing to settle her stomach. It was only a matter of time before she was falling asleep and entering one of the strangest dreams she'd had so far in her adult life._

The room was dim and Gwen was seated in a student's desk, she craned her neck around to see other students sitting about her and busy working. Professor McGonagall was seated at her desk with a raised eyebrow staring at Gwen.

"Is there a problem Ms. LeFey?"

"Yes, I think so."

"Well then, out with it."

"Where am I?"

The other students giggled with delight. They hadn't had such entertainment since one of their fellow students re-enacted a story about a Potions class where fifth year Neville Longbottom spilled some slimy substance that Crabbe and Goyle slipped on, making a huge bungling pile of idiocy on the floor with Snape screaming his head off.

"You are in Transfiguration, Ms. LeFey and if there is any more impertinence you will serve a detention."

"Yes Professor." Gwen said gazing down at her notebook. She knew she was sleeping somewhere in her dorm room, lazily draped on her pillows. And yet, the dream seemed so real…

Part Two

Gwen was waking from her dream with a very hazy memory. Had she just been in Transfiguration with McGonagall breathing down her neck like some rabid animal?

She laughed. That's silly. It was just a dream. But there was an unsettled feeling about her that she was on the verge of stepping into another world altogether.

Pirandello thought that fictional characters could take on a life of their own, so maybe Rowling's books had that same power. Maybe Hogwarts really did exist in some other dimension and Gwen had stumbled into it in her dream.

She had lived through other such strange experiences, so it didn't really surprise her much that her line of thinking followed this particular route. She'd never had an ordinary life. She was part faerie.

She couldn't remember the first time she saw them, she was little and they were so terrifying. Faeries in stories seemed so much nicer than they were in real life. But from that day on she knew she was special. She had magical blood and no matter how mundane she appeared she was different. However, she was good at hiding herself from the real world.

But lately, strange things had been happening beyond her control. Like her dream. She'd lost that amazing cool about the extraordinary and was becoming a bit nervous. What if she fell into Hogwarts every time she fell asleep? What if she never woke up? But mostly she thought: _is this somehow connected to my magic ability in the real world?_

The rest of her day was a rather quiet one with no serious upsets or surprises, but she almost feared going back to bed. If she landed in Hogwarts again how would she be able to make everyone believe she belonged there?

She drank coffee after coffee to stay awake, but chasing the caffeine dragon wasn't going to protect her from sleep. Her body demanded to lay down and finally she had to obey it.

The moment her head hit the pillow she was out.

Part Three

The room was brighter than last time, but it was the same Transfiguration classroom. Professor McGonagall was up at her desk keeping a watchful eye on her students. Today they were turning kittens into tea cups and back again. Bonus points if you could make a saucer to match.

Gwen gazed around again, trying to take in as much of her surroundings as humanly possible. McGonagall pulled out from behind her desk and marched down the aisle to Gwen's desk. "May I help you Ms. LeFey?"

"No, Professor, I was just seeing what everyone else was doing."

"You should be less concerned about everyone else and more concerned about yourself. I'm not certain you'll be properly prepared for exams this year. Your complete lack of concentration is astounding. This is the second time I've spoken to you and from now on I expect perfect marks."

"Yes Professor." She said softly, gazing at her hands.

McGonagall turned heel as Gwen sighed quietly. _That went well_, she thought, rolling her eyes at her own behavior.

Finally she decided that she might as well try the spell they were all attempting. She waved her wand, quietly chanting words she wasn't even aware she understood and before her eyes the little brown kitten sitting on her desk a moment ago was replaced by a blue ceramic tea cup resting on a perfectly matching blue saucer with a neatly folded napkin underneath.

She smiled, amazed at her own handiwork. McGonagall nodded, as if she finally understood something about her least attentive student.

When Gwen finally returned to the Gryffindor common room she found herself bursting with questions. How was this working? Not only could she work the magic required of a Hogwart's student, but she suddenly had an entire working knowledge of the past 6 years she had been enrolled in Hogwarts.

She didn't understand it herself. This was only the second dream, and yet she had 6 years worth of memories to sort through, including her own sorting into Gryffindor house.

She plunked into a chair by the fire and Lucille, her precious black cat padded up to her. She had been a gift from her late father and she felt with some certainty that she was her familiar.

But wait, Gwen's mind buckled. Her father was still alive in the real world and she didn't own any pets because her brother and sister were allergic. But she wasn't in the real world.

She was in Hogwarts and she simply had to accept this reality in order to operate within it.

Harry Potter padded into the room and smiled at her broadly. "Hey Gwen. How was your day?"

Gwen nearly burst out loud with laughter. _I know Harry Potter_?_ Oh good lord. "Fine Harry. And you?"_

"Well, except for double potions, excellent." He said while taking an adjacent chair.

There was something about the way he sat near her that made her nervous. He was good looking in that tall, skinny kind of way. He had matured quite a bit since his first year and now that he was heading into his fifth year, well he was becoming quite the catch.

"Hi Lucille." Harry said softly, stroking her belly as she rolled under his fingers for more.


	2. Common Room Nap

Episode Two

            Gwen woke rather irritably. She wiped the crust from her eyes, yawned loudly and stretched, only to bang her hand on the canopy over her bed. She blinked. She didn't have a canopy on her dorm room bed. Was she really awake?

            The light entering the room was pale, streaming in between slits of the thick maroon curtains hung by the tall windows. She knew this place, but she only knew it from her dream. She was laying in the girl's dormitory for sixth year Gryffindor students.

            There was a tight constricting panic forming in her chest. While the dream was nice and fun, she really did have a life in the outside world she needed to get back to. What if she never woke up from this dream? What if she was lying in a coma in her room and no one thought to check in on her? She didn't know the full scheme of what was happening to her, the mechanics of this other dimension.

            She knew that she could survive here if need be, but she wasn't sure that's what she wanted. This world was almost scarier than the real one in which she'd lived for 23 years. That was the other thing. Being at Hogwarts had turned back the clock. She was now 16 years old, with 7 years of her life to do over. Maybe this wasn't such a bad thing.

            She had powers; she had a wand. She had an entire history in this world that didn't exist in the other which was just as interesting, if not more so and oddly enough paralleled her real world existence. And then an impossible idea struck her.

            What if this was the real world? What if everything before was the dream? She'd always felt a certain un-reality to the world, a sort of farcical feeling she couldn't shake. It was as if the world was a parody for something far deeper lying underneath. There was a truth beneath that artificial surface, fierce and glaring, waiting for someone to trip over it. Maybe she finally did.

            She roused herself, knowing it was far too early to be awake and busied about getting ready for the day. She ventured into the common room to find that Hermione had once again fallen asleep in her books at the great desk in the corner. She tiptoed around so as not to wake her and found her way to a giant chair before the fire to ponder her new predicament.

            Lucille leaped lovingly to her lap, purring quietly that she was glad Gwen was up. Sometimes the common room became a haven for all of their strange pets. Most of the owls stayed in the Owlery, but the cats and rats and other such creatures slinked around waiting for one of the Weasley twins to feed them scraps they'd stolen from the house elves or trying to find someone to stroke them or scratch behind their ears.

            Gwen smiled at the thought of Harry rubbing Lucille's belly the day before. He was so gentle with her, as if he knew exactly what she wanted. Lucille was one of those carefree cats that didn't really care who touched her, but she had an obvious preference for her mistress and lately Harry.

            Gwen thought that strange. Why all of a sudden would her cat by so smitten with Mr. Potter? It seemed like the more questions she answered in her head, the more her head asked in return. She rubbed her eyes, it really was too early to be awake and she didn't feel like stealing away to the kitchens and getting caught by Filch.

            Instead, she lay her head on the arm of the comfy chair and fell back into an easy slumber.


	3. Vulnerable

Episode Three

Part One

            When Gwen woke next she found herself back in the dorm, her alarm clock buzzing. She checked her watch to make sure no more time than one night had passed. She sighed in relief and started going about the general tasks of the morning. Showering, dressing, brushing her long ginger hair and finding a barrette to pull it back. She was ready for class, though hardly ready to explain the strange experience of the previous afternoon.

            After class she scurried around to find her lunch time pal Chris and when she finally discovered him reading some comic book while standing in line for food she begged him to listen to her story.

            "Let me get eats first." He said pointing to his belly.

            She laughed for the first time that day and grabbed herself a sandwich. They sat outside on the sweet grass enjoying the warm north country weather while it lasted as the fall semester was just beginning. Pretty soon the grass would be covered in leaves and soon after that snow.  The wind would take on a bitter chill and bite at the students as they ran to class. Gwen really liked to sit outside when she had the opportunity.

            Chris listened patiently in between bites as she relayed the dream to him. When she had finished:

"That's pretty fucked up Gwen."

            "Yeah, I know." She replied.

            "Not the dream, more that you still like Harry Potter."

            "Chris."

            "All right. So you had a really eerie dream. It wouldn't be the first time."

            "I know, but it was so real. I really felt like I was there."

            "You have a great imagination. If I had dreams like you I'd think I was really there too." He paused. "Did that make sense?"

            "Yes."

            "Listen, don't sweat it. It's just a dream."

            She wasn't convinced. However, when two whole weeks passed without incident her worries began to subside. Maybe it was just a really vivid dream and now that she was buckling down into her school work she had no time for that sort of distraction.

            She rubbed her eyes and drooped her head, standing in the shower and letting the hot water wash over her. She had been hoping it would wash away her troubles. All it really did was make her skin dry and turn her old scar into a glaring white outline of a jagged star on her left breast. She touched it feebly trying to remember a time when it didn't grace her chest. She couldn't remember a time without and so it must always have been there.

            She closed her eyes and let the water pound out a rhythm in her head. It sounded familiar, like the ocean waves lapping the shore at high tide. Her head drooped further and she breathed heavy, not the first time she'd fallen asleep in the shower.

            She jerked her head back, slapped the wall with her sopping hair. She had a chemistry test the next day and she hadn't opened her book all semester.

Part Two

            Gwen had been studying for her chemistry test all night. The sun was peeping through the sanitary looking white Venetian blinds a blinding, burning red intensity, but Gwen was out cold. In her dazed and dreamy state the light faded quite a bit and she felt a soft touch on her arm.

            She started slowly out of her stupor to find herself back in the Gryffindor Common Room. No time had passed here, it was still the morning where she fell asleep in the cushy chair by the fire. Hermione was placing a hand to her forehead.

            "Are you feeling all right? You've been looking a bit off lately. You should go to the infirmary."

            "I'm fine." Gwen replied, though her throat was dry. She felt a little embarrassed at being found so totally vulnerable by possibly one of the smartest students Hogwarts had ever admitted.

            "You're certain?"

            "Yes."

            "Well, we'd better get dressed."

            Gwen smiled as Hermione headed back to the fifth years' room down the stairs. She roused herself slowly to dress for the day, finding her robes folded neatly in her trunk at the foot of her bed. Lucille bounded onto her bed, cocking her head to the side as if really seeing her mistress for the first time in years.

            "What are you so curious about?" Gwen whispered so as not to wake her roommates.

            The cat simply looked on as Gwen pulled off her pajamas and wriggled into her robes. She brushed her hair into a soft chignon and tumbled back downstairs for the Great Hall and breakfast. The entire hall was empty except for Professor McGonagall sitting at the main table speaking eagerly with Professor Dumbledore.

            _Of course, Gwen thought. __She's always around when I don't want her to be. All the same, Gwen felt a sort of connection to McGonagall that she didn't feel with any of the other teachers here. She knew Ron, Harry and Hermione were all great friends with Hagrid, and while she liked him she could never just go down to his hut for tea like they did. No one could get close to Snape except his oily Slytherins. And Dumbledore was just so… Dumbledore. Minerva McGonagall was the only teacher who bothered to hound Gwen when she was receiving bad marks. It was almost as if she had something personal to gain from Gwen's success._

            The girl smiled as she ate a handful of bacon mixed in with her eggs. Harry took the seat across from her and she became suddenly nervous.

            "Morning Gwen."

            "Hi Harry."

            "What are you doing up so early?"

            "I could ask the same of you."

            "Quidditch practice."

            "Ah.  I couldn't sleep."

            "Are you feeling all right? You're looking a bit pale."

            "Hermione said the same thing. I'm fine. I've just been having these odd dreams." She stopped, while she was telling the truth she wasn't certain she could explain that this world, Hogwarts was the dream.


	4. A Real Dream

Episode Four

Part One

            Several days passed living at Hogwarts. Gwen was receiving high marks in all of her classes, the teachers were lauding her recent successes and even Hermione seemed impressed by her sudden turn around. Gwen of course understood that in the past she hadn't been the best of students.

            She was often daydreaming, off in some cloudy world of her own. It was funny to her because she was the same way in the real world. Always thinking about someplace else. Even now, in this great dream world where she could make magic happen she was wishing about home.

            All she really wanted was to chat with Chris about one thing or another. Maybe hang out with her pal Gabby. She didn't really have friends like that at Hogwarts. It wasn't that she didn't get along with anyone. It was more that they didn't share any of the same interests.

            Most of the other sixth year girls were too concerned with who said what and why they did what they did. Katie Bell and Angelina Johnson were so absorbed in Quidditch that there was no use trying to pull them into a discussion of something else. Gwen was looking for something deeper, someone who was more concerned with what was happening in the world around them.

            She could talk to Harry, sure. But he had so much on his mind, what with Voldemort rising again and all of the mysteries surrounding his past. Gwen didn't think it would be fair to boggle him with her own problems. And she still wasn't sure what was really going on.

            Hogwarts was so real when she was there. And yet the real world was so real too. She needed to find out what was happening and she wasn't sure whom to approach with the matter. Dumbledore might have an answer, but Gwen was too intimidated to approach him directly. More and more she just wanted the dream to end so she could get back to her life at college.

Part Two

            That night she had a dream. It was terrifying in it's clarity, and what startled her more is that it felt truer and realer than any other dream she'd had thus far. There she was, in her dream, sitting at her desk in Hogwarts when she walked into the room. She was dressed in her usual denim and some Tori Amos t-shirt with a matching bandanna covering her long hair. She stood in front of herself, staring.

            "What do you want?" Asked Hogwart's Gwen.

            "What do you want?" Asked College Gwen provocatively.

            "What do you mean?"

            "I mean, what do you want? It's a simple question."

            "No it's not. It's the hardest question ever asked."

            "For you maybe. But not for me."

            "But you are me." Hogwart's Gwen shouted, frustrated and just a little bit freaked out.

            "Exactly. And so if it's easy for me then it's easy for you. If you want it bad enough, you'll find that it's real." College Gwen turned on her heel and left the Hogwart's Gwen to think alone.

            The real Gwen woke with a start, still in the sixth year girls' dorm of Gryffindor, still confused as all get out. She put a hand on her feverish forehead and thought for the first time in this whole conundrum that perhaps she was going crazy.


	5. Yggdrasil

Episode Five

Part One

            "Harry, I don't belong here." Gwen said urgently. She had sat him down near the pond, far enough out of ear shot that no one should hear her. She had decided it was time to tell someone at Hogwarts and Harry seemed the most willing to listen.

            "Well, I know you have trouble paying attention in class, but Hermione would gladly tutor you."

            "It's not that Harry. I'm different from all of you. I come from another world entirely."

            "How do you mean?"

            "I mean I… I'm not really... God this is so hard to explain."

            "Well take your time." He said, smiling reassuringly and placing his hand on top of hers in a bold gesture of friendship. The gesture didn't go quite as planned. She fell into some kind of trance and began whispering in a strange tongue. Harry couldn't pull away, it was almost as if his hand were glued to hers. He'd only ever witnessed something like it when Professor Trelawney had spoken her strange premonition during the Divination final little more than a year before.

            She suddenly stopped, looked directly at him and uttered a single word: _Yggdrasil. Her eyes closed and she relaxed visibly._

            "Gwen?" He ventured.

            "Yeah." She blinked.

            "You ok?"

            "I don't know. What happened?"

            "You fell into a trance and were speaking some language I didn't understand. You said _Yggdrasil."         _

            "Yeah, it's the world tree in Norse mythology."

            "Does that mean anything to you?"

"It sort of means something, but not anything I can easily explain."

            "You have a lot of trouble explaining things huh?" He smiled. "Don't worry, I have patience."

            "You had me fooled."

Part Two

            Gwen thought on Odin. He sacrificed his eye to drink from the well of Mimir, under the root of Asgard on the world tree to gain vision of the long range future. And then he speared himself and hung from the Gallows Tree as a corpse to learn the secret alphabet of the runes.

            She knew this from her other reality, the world she felt was real, though less and less the more time she spent dreaming at Hogwarts. She had learned about the Norse myths from her friend Graves. He was very well versed in such matters and he had even encouraged Gwen to make a set of runes for herself. And to impress Graves she did so out of rocks where on she painted the ancient symbols. She rarely used her runes though. She felt they were powerfully magic and not to be tinkered with lightly.

What could it mean? Obviously Gwen had some impressive divination skills. She had shown early promise when she began taking classes with Trelawney but with the ridicule the practice received, Gwen quit after her fourth year at Hogwarts and hadn't since picked up a deck of tarot or a set of runes.

She sighed. One more mystery to add to the pile and she still hadn't told Harry everything she had wanted to.


	6. Honugic Cugothsa Etheng

Episode Six

            And then one morning Gwen awoke again in the real world, her chemistry books spilling all over her bed. Again, no time had passed in this world while Hogwarts had moved ahead weeks. Her sense of self was slowly falling away from her and she wasn't sure when she would return to the dream.

            The longer she stayed at Hogwarts the more she wanted to return to college. The longer she stayed at college the more she wanted to return to Hogwarts. But there were three things Hogwarts didn't have: Chris, Gabby and Graves.

            The four of them had a strange friendship. Graves would work on spell-casting with Gwen, which was so entirely different from spell-casting at Hogwarts. They would chant together in Ouranian Barbaric for hours on end. Meanwhile, Gabby would be laughing at them and tickling Chris, who would turn around and pelt them with stale marshmallows that had been sitting in the cupboard at Graves apartment since he had moved in at the beginning of sophomore year, making the marshmallows a mature two years old.

            It had been a while since they'd all hung out together. Chris wanted pizza. Gabs wanted to rent a movie. Graves just wanted to sit close to Gwen and tease her about her dream world which Chris had accidentally told him about one afternoon.

            While Chris went to pick up the pizza and Gabs went to find a movie, Graves began his taunting.

"So you and Harry Potter are all buddy-buddy now?"

            "Shut up."

            "Oh come on, you know you love it."

            "No, I really don't. I'm so confused right now. Weeks will go by in that world and then I'll come back and weeks will go by here. Sometimes it's a day before I switch worlds, sometimes longer. I don't know what to do."

            "Honugic Cugothsa Etheng." Graves said with a rare smile.

            "And how does that help me?" Gwen asked.

            "Strength Never Dying. You need to be strong. You'll get through this."

            She looked at Graves with respect and found a new and deeper appreciation for him. With his words echoing in her head she felt a new strength flowing through her veins. She would get through this. And when next she returned to Hogwarts she found herself repeating his words every morning before classes and every night before bed.


	7. A Letter to Mother

Episode Seven

Part One

Gwen wanted desperately to figure out how her world switching was working. She thought, perhaps her trance had been a clue. She decided to look for some Norse mythology while she was at Hogwarts. She had been living here for a few days and it might be awhile before she returned to the college world again.

However, there were no books in the Hogwart's library about Norse mythology and if there were they had all been signed out by other students working on reports for Professor Binns. She tried to remember as much about Yggdrasil as she could.

It was the world tree and there were three sections on it. One branch of the tree was reserved for the dead, one for the living and one for the giant gods. Other than that, nothing. She was drawing a blank. Maybe it had something to do with the different worlds within the tree and somehow they must be connected to her worlds.

            She sighed, confused and alone again. Though she didn't like to think it neither world had everything she wanted. She could live in both and be comfortable, but there would always be something missing. Something she couldn't place yet.

            She had since told Harry about her dream as he was really the only one she was close to at Hogwarts. He thought over it for awhile, but couldn't make heads or tails of it. "It's strange." He said, gazing at her over a pile of Divination homework that she was helping him with. "So, this other you is a part of another world? A dream world?"

            "Yes, but now I'm not sure which the dream world is. I thought it was Hogwarts, but I'm inclined to think less so the more time I spend here."

            "Have you told your mother yet?"

            Gwen looked at him as if she'd been betrayed. While the thought had never occurred to her and it seemed like a good idea, she couldn't fathom that her mother would help. Beorc LeFey was a muggle and possibly the most frustrating mother to ever live.

Part Two

            Gwen spent the rest of the afternoon trying to compose a letter to her mother, the same mother she had in the real world. Her mother was the only constant in both worlds. She acted the same neurotic way, looking the same and always called Gwen by her given name: Guenivere.

            Perhaps Beorc did know more than Gwen thought she might. Her mother did surprise her sometimes with an uncommonly sweet gesture, or a random hug. Maybe she would surprise her again with some hidden knowledge. Besides, it couldn't hurt asking.

            She addressed the letter and with Harry's permission tied it to Hedwig's leg for delivery. "Thanks Hedwig. Don't leave until she feeds you well." She added with a smile.

            "Well, that settles that." She said to Harry.

            He took her hand softly in his. "I hope it works out for you."

            "Oh, me too." She said. She realized Harry was holding her hand and she started to shiver. She was half afraid she'd have another trance, and half scared at the great Harry Potter touching her.

            He noticed, but instead of taking his hand away he squeezed it tighter. "But mostly I hope you find that this is the real world and that you can stay here permanently."

            She gazed at him a long time, trying to come up with a response, but none came. She smiled, thinking that the silence between them was richer than any words she could think to say. She wasn't aware of it at the time, but Harry was thinking the same thing.


	8. To The Forbidden Forest

Episode Eight

            Weeks were flying by and Gwen thought she'd never return to college. She wasn't aware that she was correct in her assumption. She simply continued living in Hogwarts as if it was meant to be. She figured if she was going to return to college then it would be something beyond her control that would cause her return and she left it at that.

            She was spending more and more time with Harry, which meant spending more and more time with Ron and Hermione. That is when Hermione wasn't studying and Ron wasn't making up his Divination homework. Harry really liked Gwen, even though she was older and acted far more mature than any other sixteen year old he knew.

            She had a sense of humor and a smile that never failed to cheer him up. And while she was fully aware of her past, her future was entirely uncertain, something Harry could understand and sympathize with. It was for that reason that he had asked her along on one of his crazy adventures.

            He knew Ron would never go, because there was always the danger of running into Aragog if one took a wrong turn in the Forbidden Forest. And Hermione was so deep in her studies at this point that Harry didn't bother to ask. She needed all the sleep she could get. The only choice was to ask Gwen and since Harry knew she had some wild fey blood running in her veins that she couldn't refuse an adventure, no matter how far-fetched.

            She wasn't sure why she said yes, the entire idea was sketchy at best, but she didn't want to miss it either. Harry grinned and told her to meet him in the Common Room after midnight. He was certain she wouldn't let him down. So at 11:59 exactly Gwen slipped on her cloak and tip-toed down the stairs.

Once the two of them were safely wrapped in his invisibility cloak he pushed open the portrait hole and they sneaked passed the snoozing Fat Lady. It was tricky navigating the halls together, squished closer than Gwen thought she could stand without bursting. Harry could barely suppress his excitement.

When finally they had found their way out of the castle, over the lawns and past Hagrid's hut Harry threw off the cloak, tucked it tightly under his arm and lit his wand. "Lumos," Gwen softly uttered and the tip of her wand glowed as well.

"This way." Harry said, gesturing with his arm. They were on the very edge of the forest and one step further would take them right into it. Harry stepped first and Gwen followed, an ache in her belly warning her, but she ignored it. They were young and the night beckoned them to enjoy it.

Suddenly Harry took off at a sprint and Gwen raced to catch him. He was terribly fast, but Gwen had no trouble keeping up. They were off the beaten path now, deeper and deeper into the woods not knowing if they were going to run into a werewolf or even be able to find their way back. They didn't care. Something inside of them said, "keep running."

Finally Harry stopped and Gwen pulled up beside him, both of them panting and breathless, feeling freer than they had ever felt. "What exactly are we doing here?" Asked Gwen. It hadn't really occurred to her to ask him before now.

"Honestly," Harry began, "I'm not sure. I just had a feeling."

She smiled at him in the wane light of their wands. "I'm glad I came." She said, more to herself than anything.

"I'm glad you did to." He took her hand and they stood quietly, gazing at the stars and soaking in the deep quiet of the Forbidden Forest. Gwen felt more than ever that she belonged here, in this world even if it was just a dream. She never wanted to leave again.

A rustle of leaves from behind disturbed them. Harry jumped around and flashed the light in that direction. To their astonishment there stood a giant Centaur. He was wearing a disapproving look on his face, as if children shouldn't be wandering around at night in the unsafe woods. Especially when the stars were so bright and easy to read.

He spoke in a quiet baritone. "You mustn't be in the woods on such a night. You will follow me to the path and get back to the castle immediately."

Harry sent a side-long glance to Gwen and she nodded. There was no use fighting with a Centaur; they tended to be much wiser than any human. And so it was only just good luck within disappointment that led them back to the path, since they couldn't have found it on their own. The two of them trudged back to the edge of the forest quietly and waved good bye to the Centaur, who was already back to star-gazing.

They wrapped themselves back up in the cloak and began the walk back to the castle. Harry went painfully slow this time, trying to enjoy every last moment that he had her alone and away from the watchful eye of everyone else. Gwen couldn't keep from smiling. He was being awfully cute.

The night had been so perfect. Gwen thought nothing could spoil it as they mounted the stairs. A few more steps and they'd be at the portrait. Finally she whispered the password to the Fat Lady. Harry sighed relief as the portrait swung open; they were almost home free. Until they both felt a pair of heavy hands clutch onto their shoulders.

They had been caught.


	9. McGonagall's Disappointment

Episode Nine

            McGonagall looked as severe as ever standing by the fire in the Gryffindor Common Room. She was grimacing at the very thought of Harry and Gwen sneaking out of Hogwarts to go gallivanting about in the Forbidden Forest, looking for god-knows-what.

"What did you think you were doing? Both of you know that the Forbidden Forest is strictly off limits. And you Mr. Potter, after all the trouble you've been in. I would've thought you'd have known better."

Gwen was feeling extremely stupid. Her stomach had warned her and her stomach never lied. She should have known that they would get caught or that something equally terrible would happen.

McGonagall wasn't finished. "And I am especially disappointed in you Ms. LeFey. One hundred points will be taken from Gryffindor and both of you will serve two consecutive detentions. You're lucky that you won't be expelled."

Harry watched Gwen's face fall as she fought to keep the tears welled in her eyes. He felt that it was really all his fault, but he knew that there was no use trying to talk to McGonagall when she was this upset.

"Now, off to bed."

Harry trudged slowly up the stairs as Gwen trudged slowly down. She looked back one more time at McGonagall and saw that she was looking back at her. She wanted to run over to her and tell her everything, about the dreams and that her mother had never answered her owl and about the strange relationship she had with Harry. But she couldn't move; she could only gaze at the older woman who looked so entirely crestfallen.

Finally she turned her head and continued down the stairs.

Of all the people to care, why McGonagall? Gwen had always felt that Professor McGonagall had a special connection to her, but she couldn't figure out why. Sure, she was in her house, but she rarely took a particular interest in her residents. There was something deeper, something older about their connection. That's all Gwen needed, another piece to the giant puzzle in her head.

She thought she'd never figure it out.


	10. A Visit From Mother

Episode Ten

            It happened over Christmas Holidays. Gwen had decided long ago to stay at Hogwarts over the holiday. She wasn't sure she could face her mother, especially not after serving two detentions of cleaning the potions classroom with Snape and oiling the manacles in Filch's dungeon of an office. Mrs. LeFey was not going to be pleased.

            But because Gwen had decided to stay, Mrs. Beorc LeFey decided to visit.

            She stood waiting near the head table in the Great Hall for her daughter to come to lunch. Professor McGonagall was sitting at the head table, staring avidly at her. She wasn't entirely sure what Beorc was doing at Hogwarts and although she knew this woman had permission from Dumbledore, she didn't think it a good idea for her to be here.

Finally Gwen arrived and stopped dead in her tracks as her mother came into view.

"Guenivere. You're getting tall." Beorc said.

            "Yes mother. It's amazing." Gwen replied with a bite.

            "Don't get snippy with me young lady. You have a lot to explain."

            "No, I don't mother. You have a lot to explain."

            "Excuse me?"

            "How about what are you doing here?  And while we're at it, what's happening to me?"

            "What are you talking about?"

            "You can't pretend you didn't get my owl mother. I told you everything about the dreams and how I keep switching worlds. What's happening?"

            Her mother looked at her uncomfortably. She wasn't sure how to tell her daughter the truth. It had been so long since they'd really seen each other and Gwen awake and operating within the Hogwart's world was absolutely terrifying to her. She had to think of something to say to her.

            "Just tell me." Gwen said irritably.

            "There's nothing to tell." She said, knowing the pause she'd taken to think of an answer was far too long and that her bright daughter had seen right through it.

            "Mother."

            She took a hard look, searching Gwen's determined face. Finally she replied, "I'll explain it to you. But it's not pretty."

            "I just want the truth mom, I want things to be normal."

            "Things will never by normal for you Gwen. But I'm glad you finally decided to come home."


	11. A Long Story

Episode Eleven

Part One

"Mom, what are you saying?" Gwen asked sincerely.

"I'm saying that this real world you were living in, where you go to college and have a younger brother and sister, I'm saying it's not real." Mrs. LeFey replied.

"How could that be?"

"Honey, you took your father's death so hard. I just couldn't bear it. So I created a world for you where he was still alive. Of course you were still living and breathing here, but you mostly just went through the motions, living almost fully in a dream world."

"But I thought that this was the dream world."

"I'm afraid not honey."

"So, dad really is dead and Harry's real and…" Gwen stopped. She was at an utter loss for words.

"Everything here is real. College was just a dream."

"And the books?" Gwen squeezed out in a barely audible whisper.

"You mean the Rowling books? That was a nice touch. I made her up and she wrote about current events in our world. I thought you'd best be up to date."

"I think my brain is going to explode."

"Sweetie, I meant well."

"I know mom. I know. It's just a lot to take in."

"Your Professor McGonagall began to suspect something was amiss when you started getting full marks on all your tests. If you were so capable all along then why were you so distracted? Minerva and I go a ways back."

"Did you explain it to her?"

"Not at first, but she understood why. I couldn't let it get out that I was still alive."

"How do you mean?"

"Gwen honey, it's a very long story and you look like you haven't eaten in days. Why don't we sit down over a cup of tea and I'll tell you the whole thing?"

"Sure." Gwen sighed. She just wanted answers and her brain was swarming. If everything her mother was telling her was indeed true then her mother was the most powerful witch alive. Possibly even more powerful than Dumbledore, the most powerful wizard known to date. But that meant that her mother wasn't a muggle and that Gwen was more pureblood than she had first thought.

She watched as her mother took a seat at the Gryffindor table, waiting for Gwen to join her. "It's so strange sitting here." Her mother said.

Gwen took a seat across from her mother and a plate of chicken and potatoes appeared before her. The house elves must have read her mind. She began to eat quickly, forgetting for a moment that her mother was sitting across from her.

Beorc cleared her throat. "So, you really want me to explain everything?"

"Yes." She thought this moment would never come. "Yes I do."

Part Two

Beorc took a deep breath. Where to start? Perhaps the beginning said a tiny voice inside her head.

"Well, I erased most of your memory of what happened in your early childhood and specifically anything you knew about me. Obviously I'm a witch."

"A powerful witch." Gwen said, halfway between awe and anger.

"Yes. Your grandparents were as well. They died in Azkaban."

"My grandparents?"

"Only on my side. You're father's entire family was quite unique. His great-great-grandmother was a faerie and his great-great-grandfather fell in love with her. He cast a spell over her so that they could be together. That's where your fey blood comes from. But all of his family were wizards, and very good wizards at that. All the baddies were on my side." Beorc said with a rare sense of humor.

"I'm assuming my grandparents were death eaters then?" Gwen asked soberly.

"Yes. Right in the thick of it with Lord Voldemort. They were with him before he gained power."

"And you?"

"Well, I was a Slytherin. But I'm not evil. No matter what anyone might tell you to the contrary." Beorc paused to gather her thoughts.

"And?"

"And your father kept me from turning along with everyone else when Voldemort came to power. My parents were pressuring me all the time, but I avoided them as best I could. Your father and I were married in secret and escaped England for a time. For ten years we kept moving about to keep our location unknown. Voldemort was so strong, if he wanted to find you he would. We decided eventually that we shouldn't run anymore and returned to England. That's when you were born, a year before Voldemort fell."

Gwen was looking at her hands. She saw movement in the corner of her eye and noticed that the few other people staying at Hogwarts for holiday were straggling in for lunch, including Harry and Ron. They all noticed the strange woman sitting with her and sat far enough away so as not to hear, but kept glancing over eagerly.

Part Three

"I asked Professor McGonagall to be your godmother when you were born."

"McGonagall is my godmother?"

For the first time all day Beorc smiled. "Yes. She was absolutely thrilled. She had always been my favorite teacher and since she never had children herself, I just felt that it was the right thing to do. And I trusted her. It was such a strange time. Even though it was terrifying to be alive then, people were uniting underneath it regardless of differences. She always told me that I had been her best student and she even over-looked the fact that I was one of those power hungry Slytherins. I knew that if anything ever happened to us that she would care for you well and that you'd always be protected."

And suddenly it clicked. Of course McGonagall would take a special interest in her if she was her godchild. Every question she had about that particular issue had been put to bed. But there were still so many questions to be answered.

"You grew up in a wizarding family and though it was rough for that first year when Voldemort disappeared everything was that much better. Your father and I thrived and you grew up so quickly. We didn't tell you about your grandparents because we didn't want you to go around with that hanging over your head. When they died we had them buried there and I haven't thought on them since."

Beorc gave her daughter a moment. She needed a moment herself to catch her breath.

"I'm sorry that they died." Gwen said softly.

"You shouldn't be. They were awful people." Beorc's face hardened slightly. "Besides, it's in the past and they're gone. They can't spread any more evil."

Gwen watched her mother closely. She saw the sadness in her eyes; the circles of regret and worry deep and black underneath. She placed her hand on top of her mother's and saw how suddenly she didn't seem quite so sad as she had been moments before.

"You're an amazing kid Gwen. I'm sorry to have underestimated you."

"I think I underestimated myself."

"Well, when your father died I hardly knew what to do with myself. It was terrible really. No one knew that the death eaters were still about. Your father and I wanted a vacation. So we left you with your Aunt Ann and your father's brother George. We spent eight glorious days together but it was a short lived glory. The death eaters hadn't been active for years and suddenly a group of them had us cornered. They killed your father and attempted to kill me. It was almost too easy to fake my death."

"Why would you want to?"

"Because if the death eaters were still around they would want me dead anyway. It was most likely that my own parents had signed a warrant for my death as a last wish from Azkaban. In the end it just worked out. I altered my appearance and changed my name. When it was safe enough to return home I took you back and erased everything. I made the dream world for you and off you went. One year before we received your acceptance letter to Hogwarts."

Part Four

"But what about everything in the dream world?" Gwen asked.

"You mean your friends?"

Gwen was a bit taken aback at how well her mother really knew her. Of course she was thinking about her friends Gabby, Chris and Graves. Especially Graves. She was so afraid that they weren't real.

Her mother gazed at her sadly. "I'm afraid that they aren't really your friends."

Gwen felt a giant sob rising in her chest and she concentrated so much on it that she scarcely heard her mother's next words. "However they do exist."

"They…" She could hardly get the words out.

"Yes. They live in this world. Corwin Graves is a seventh year student in Slytherin."

"A Slytherin?"

"Not all Slytherins are bad." Her mother said pointedly.

"What about Gabby and Chris?"

"Gabrielle is a fifth year Ravenclaw and Christopher is a sixth year Hufflepuff. I thought it was best if you were exposed to people from every house, and I picked the most well rounded students. I cast a rather complicated spell and made them a couple of doppelgangers for your dream world. The rest was all from my imagination and what knowledge I have of the world here outside of Hogwarts."

"What about the age difference? In the college dream I'm 23 years old."

"Yes. That was on purpose. I wanted you to believe so fully in that world, so I made it impossible for you to be a Hogwart's student. You were ten when I put you into the dream. But I adjusted your age so that you were sixteen. You were too old to be accepted, to old to even suspect that you could be enrolled. You'd always been mature for your age anyway."

"And Yggdrasil?" Gwen said, suddenly reminded of her trance.

"Yggdrasil was a clue for you. Three worlds on one tree, three worlds for you. None was more real than any other, however the dream world was only real for you. And of course it's related to the runes seeing how my parents named me after the rune for birth. I figured eventually the clue would lead you back to me, but I see Mr. Potter did that for you."

"Yes. He's really amazing."

"Indeed." Beorc said with a raised eyebrow. Gwen's relationship with Harry Potter worried her some. Having her daughter so entangled with him could prove dangerous for all three of them.


	12. The Stars Were So Bright

Episode Twelve

            "I have only one question left." Gwen said as she and her mother exited the Great Hall. "Why did I start waking up at Hogwarts?"

            "I had nothing to do with that." Beorc replied, stopping to face her daughter. "You must have known deep inside that college was just a dream and that you belonged here. Maybe you just decided you were ready to come back."

            Gwen smiled. "I'm home."

            "Yes, you are. And now that all that business is settled I want to hear more about this violation of school policy."

            Gwen's smile faded instantly to be replaced by a frown. "I'll never do it again?"

            "I'm certain that you won't, but you must explain to me why you would be running around the Forbidden Forest with this Harry Potter."

            Before she replied, Gwen took a long look around the doors of the Great Hall to see Harry sitting with Ron, laughing and chatting away. She wasn't sure why she went running with him in the forest. She couldn't think of a good answer. "Honestly mom, I just like to spend time with him. The night was so beautiful. The stars were so bright."

            Beorc nodded. She remembered feeling that way when she was young too and seeing a young Ravenclaw on the sly. Although she was happy that her daughter finally felt at home she was very wary of her new companions. Harry Potter had been marked for death since he was a baby and anyone close to him was always in danger.

            "Well dear, we have said all that can be said. I'll see you again." And with that, Beorc walked away from her daughter leaving Hogwarts behind with a nervous feeling in her gut.


	13. Flying in the Snow

Episode Thirteen

            With her mother gone Gwen began to formulate a plan. If Gabby, Chris and Graves had been such good friends to her in the dream then perhaps they could still be good friends to her at Hogwarts. Harry was fantastic, but sometimes Gwen wished she could just lean up against Graves and chant or throw a pillow at Gabs.

            She spent the rest of holiday trying to figure out a way to introduce herself. She was truly surprised that she had never noticed them in any of her previous stays at Hogwarts. They all looked exactly like they did in the dream, except here they were a bit younger.

            In the meantime Gwen spent most of her time with Harry. There were to be no more adventures with him, but they spent most of their vacation in the common room, chatting in a quiet corner sharing their thoughts on her past and everything her mother had done.

            "I just can't believe it. Everything I know about the college world was a dream, a figment of my mother's imagination. It's so hard to even fathom."

            "I'm glad that you're here to stay though." He said, his fingers grazing the top of her hand.

            Gwen wasn't certain what direction her relationship with Harry was heading. In the dream world she'd had plenty of guy friends that she cuddled with and held hands. It was just comfortable that way. But with Harry it was different. There was a deeper feeling than just friendly affection in place there.

            They smiled at each other for awhile. "Want to go flying?" Harry asked. "It's really nice with the snow dancing all about."

            "Yeah." She said. She ran downstairs to pick up her broom, a nice Cleansweep Eight that she'd received as a birthday present from her Aunt Ann and Uncle George. She'd always liked them, especially after her lengthy visit to them in her youth.

            She found that many of the memories her mother had tried to bury were now swimming to the surface and she was trying to place them in a sort of context. Some of them were confusing, and out of step with her current picture of her life, she slid those into a mental filing cabinet labeled: confused.

            She shook the thought away grabbed her broom and ran up to meet Harry. They walked down to the Quidditch field slowly, enjoying the nip of the wind and the masses of swirling snow. As it tumbled to the ground it made a crisp sound, as if it were ice hitting dead leaves strewn about the great lawns of Hogwarts. It was enchanting.

            They kicked off the ground and rose high above the field, soaring around singing Christmas carols and Hanukkah songs at the top of their lungs. Gwen could only be thankful that this was her world.

Life here was good.


	14. Three Friends

Episode Fourteen

Part One

The term started up again and soon the corridors were filled to brimming with students bustling to get to class. Gwen started the new year with a very fresh approach. She belonged here, she had belonged here all her life. Now it was time to show everyone that she belonged here.

She worked extra hard on her weak spots, namely Potions. She even studied in the subjects she was naturally good at, Charms and Transfiguration. Soon she was impressing even Snape (which was a miracle considering that he'd never paid her any mind before). Gwen was definitely going to make top marks if she didn't burn herself out.

She still had the idea of introducing herself to Gabby, Chris and Graves but she wasn't sure how to go about it. But Gwen had forgotten about her faerie luck. Sometimes if you wanted something badly enough it just came to you.

A tall, gaunt 7th year boy bumped into her on her way to watch Harry play Quidditch against Hufflepuff.

"I'm sorry." She said softly. "I didn't mean to…" She stopped immediately. She was face to face with Corwin Graves.

"I'm sorry do I know you?" He said.

            "Um... I'm Guenivere."

            "Corwin."

            "They all call me Gwen."

            "They call me Graves."

            They smiled at each other. Graves couldn't place it but he had the strangest feeling that he knew her from somewhere. Gwen was staring and she was trying really hard to stop. She was so flustered she hardly noticed that Graves was staring too.

            "I swear I know you from somewhere." He said after a lengthy pause.

            "I was thinking the same thing." She said with a smile that nearly stopped his heart from beating.

            "Maybe we could sit together at lunch sometime. What house are you in?"

            "I'm a Gryffindor." She said quietly.

            "Slytherin." He said, almost ashamed for her sake.

            "Well, we could still have lunch." She said.

            "That would be really nice. I'll see you later Gwen." He winked and took off towards the field at a sprint.

Part Two

            Meeting Gabby, or Gabrielle as she liked to be called at Hogwarts took a little more work than meeting Graves. She was a 5th year Ravenclaw and Gwen rarely had contact with anyone from that house. Sometimes she just didn't like the house system. It kept you from meeting so many other people.

            But she persevered. She spoke to Professor McGonagall about getting the girl's schedule and her godmother was more than willing to help her. She smiled ruefully as she handed Gwen a slip of parchment with her soft swirling writing scrawled on it. "Do not abuse this."

            "Of course not Professor McGonagall."

            "You can call me Aunt Minerva when we are alone and out of the classroom setting Guenivere. I've spoken with your mother and I now know everything you know."

            Gwen smiled and wrapped her godmother in a surprising hug. "Thank you Aunt Minerva." She almost giggled at the sound of it. With the schedule firmly in her grasp she stalked after Gabby for days before an opportunity presented itself.

            Gabrielle had dropped her bag in the hallway tussle after Friday Potions lesson. Everyone was in such an excitement because the Dueling Club had been re-activated and was meeting in the Great Hall. Gabby's books went tumbling about everywhere and students were slipping over them. Gwen rushed over to help her.

            "Oh thank you." Gabrielle breathed. "It's so hard to get people to pay attention to you around here if you're a Ravenclaw."

            Gwen laughed. Even her mother's made up Rowling books had said as much. She never spent much writing time on the quick-witted Ravenclaws. "Well, some of us pay closer attention." She said as she helped corral the other girl's books back into her bag.

            "Thanks. I'm Gabrielle."

            "Guenivere LeFey."

            "Beautiful name."

            "Thanks. Most people just call me Gwen though."

            "They used to call me Gabby, but I just grew out of it. I prefer Gabrielle."

            "Very respectable." Gwen said with one of her winning smiles.

            Gabrielle extended her hand to shake. When they touched there was an electric shock.

"It's Electric." Gwen laughed.

"What's that?"

"It's Electric? It's a ridiculous muggle song called the Electric Slide and everyone does this thing." She said while pantomiming the motions with her arms.

Gabrielle laughed. "It's Electric."

Part Three

            Chris was the easiest of all three of them to meet. Gryffindor shared Herbology lessons with Hufflepuff. It was only a matter of time before they were working at the same pot and chatting it up like they use to in Gwen's dreams.

            It felt so good to have her friends back in her life. Even though they weren't aware of the extensive history they had shared in Gwen's head there was that same kind of chemistry. It was as if the bonds, even though imaginary were so strong that she needed only to remind her friends of their presence.

            Some of the other Gryffindor's were a little scandalized over her relationship with Graves. They couldn't bear one of their brightest to be hanging out with a Slytherin, even if he was the nicest Slytherin out of the whole lot. Regardless, the days that followed were some of the best of Gwen's life.

            She couldn't think on those times without smiling. She was surprised when she got all three of them to sit together to watch a Quidditch match. They were a full representation of the houses sitting in a little clump high up in the stands. All of them were cheering for Harry except for Graves (which was acceptable since Gryffindor was playing Slytherin that afternoon; it was almost blasphemy if you didn't cheer for your own house team).

            Graves found he liked Chris's off the wall sense of humor. Gabrielle found that she had much in common history wise with Chris. They had grown up rather close to each other in muggle communities and knew many of the same people. Gwen smiled that everything was falling into place. She could have the best of both worlds. Her friends were here at Hogwarts and back together as if they'd always belonged together, thanks to her perseverance.


	15. At the Edge of the Forest

Episode Fifteen

Part One

She might have known it was almost too good to last.

            It started when Draco Malfoy took a particular interest in his fellow Slytherin's relationship to a certain Gryffindor. His blond helmet of hair gleamed in the sunlight streaming through the Great Hall's high windows as he stared blatantly at the two of them sitting at the far end of the Gryffindor table. He'd noticed that Graves had been taking meals away from his house table more and more often. When he noticed the older boy was eating with Guenivere LeFey he was enraged.

            She was friends with Harry Potter.

            He started to form a plan in his oily little brain. He was going to rip those two apart if it was the last thing he did. No self-respecting Slytherin would ever eat at the Gryffindor table, let alone date one of them. His mind cranked out idea after idea, but nothing seemed quite right.

            Maybe if Graves found Gwen kissing someone else. _Oh that's mature_, Malfoy thought. No, it needed to be something more terrifying. He could easily knock her against a wall a few times with the help of Crabbe and Goyle. but physical violence seemed just too easy. Perhaps this was one of those instances where all those awful curses and hexes he'd been working on would come in handy.

            He smiled as the gears began to turn in his head.

Part Two

            It was so easy for Malfoy to find Gwen alone. When she wasn't surrounded with her new friends she was sitting on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, gazing into the depths of darkness. She spent glorious amounts of time there, just looking at the interplay of shadows and light on the leaves of the trees.

Perhaps Gwen remembered that night she and Harry had stolen into the woods and was looking back into the past, or maybe she was searching for something in the darkness, hoping it would reveal itself and clear her mind of any confusion she might still have. She wasn't sure, but she thought something lay waiting within those woods. It called to her and Harry that night when they went running about reckless and free. It was still there, still waiting for her.

The darkness was seeping beyond the forest and Gwen realized the sun was setting. It was about time to head back to the castle. She stretched as she stood, a little sore from sitting so long. She didn't even see it coming.

Malfoy had his wand out, pointed at her and ready to do mischief. And while his hex was no where near any of the Unforgivable Curses it was bad enough. _A 5th year Slytherin's extensive knowledge of the dark arts comes in mighty handy_, he thought.

Gwen was thrashing about for hours afterward in the hospital wing, trying to think of a way to get him back while Madame Pomfrey tried to soothe her.

Part Three

It wasn't long before everyone had heard about the attack. Gwen hadn't told anyone it was Malfoy yet, she wanted to deal with him on her own terms.

"Did he hurt you?" Graves said, pulling her aside in the Charm's corridor.

            "No, Graves. I'm ok. It was nothing really." Gwen said, trying to erase the achy tension still present in her body. He had hurt her, but she wasn't about to tell Graves that.

            "So it was Malfoy?"

            "You're not to tell anyone." She said hurriedly.

            "I can't believe he put his greasy little hands on you. I'll kill him."

            "Graves, he's nothing I can't handle. You know I'm a very capable witch. If I find I'm in over my head you'll be the first person I call."

            "Gwen it's not that. It's that he's trying to get to me through you."

            "Are you sure?"

            "Slytherins are the type of people that only look out for themselves. There is no loyalty in that house, not even to a fellow Slytherin. Draco would kill me if he thought it would advance him at all."

            "Would it?"

            "Not now, but you know that dark forces are brewing right now. He doesn't even hide it that his father is a death eater anymore. It's only a matter of time before he has the dark mark and then, who knows?"

            "I don't know. I thought maybe it had something to do with Harry."

            "Oh him." Graves said. He fully understood the extent of Gwen's relationship with Harry Potter. It wasn't that he didn't like the guy. It was more that he coveted his relationship with Gwen more than he had coveted anything in his entire life.

            "So tell me something." He said softly. "Are you and Potter an item?"

            "What?" Gwen said incredulously. That was the most absurd thing she'd ever heard.

            "Are you?"

            "No. We're just friends."

            "Just friends that hold hands?"

            "Yes. You've never held hands with your female friends before?"

            "No." He said, anger flickering over his face like flames.

            "Why are you getting so upset?" She said suddenly concerned.

            "Maybe I care."

            "About what Graves?"

            "About you." He said looking away from her. He was upset enough to cry and he hadn't done that since he'd been a very young boy. He didn't want to start again now.

            She reached out tentatively to rest her hand on his arm. Before she could say anything he had her wrapped in his arms tightly. She rested her head on his chest and listened to his heart, beating out apologies and trying to find words to explain what it felt for her.


	16. The Faerie Mound

Episode Sixteen

Part One

            Gwen knew Graves' feelings for her. She was fairly certain she knew what was going on with Harry. Now she had only to sort out her own feelings.

            She resumed her post by the Forbidden Forest. There was something inside pulling her, calling to her again. Maybe it held some answers, maybe it only held another mystery. She wasn't sure, but it didn't seem to matter. She was going to wait until she could sneak in without being seen.

            The shafts of sunlight peeking through the edge of the forest faded slowly and soon she was enveloped in inky black darkness. She stepped one foot after another into the woods. There was no path, only a feeling. The more intense the feeling the closer she was to her destination.

            Soon she was so deep that any sounds fell dull and dead, dampened by the thickness of the trees set so close together. The feeling in her belly was quickly becoming an ache. She took one more step and felt a slight rise in the ground. She stepped back, pulled out her wand and illuminated the tip so that she could see better.

            She had found a mound of ground, a slight curve of earth, a tiny hill surrounded by a circle of birch trees.

            Gwen had just stumbled on a Faerie Mound.

Part Two

            Suddenly there were lights all around her. Tiny pin pricks of light circling and dancing. She didn't understand it at the time, but these were her relatives and they were protecting her from the dark beasts of the forest. They had been with her for the entire journey through the woods, covering their lithe bodies with bits of black fabric so they didn't blind her.

            Now they were lighting her way home.

            She noticed a tiny patch of discolored grass sticking out from under the snow on the mound. When she reached down to touch it she found that it was merely an illusion and that this was the opening into the hill of earth. She stepped cautiously into it and felt a pleasant tickling sensation as she sank into the earth.

            "Welcome home." A voice said quietly from behind her.

            She turned around and standing before her was a beautiful woman who reminded her very much of her father. Was it possible that her great-great-grandmother was still alive?

            "Yes, it's possible.' The beautiful woman replied as if reading her thoughts.

            "And you are?" Gwen asked hardly believing she wasn't back in her bed dreaming again.

            "I am. You can call me Gemma. It's what your father's great-grandfather called me."

            "Why did you call me here?"

            "I called you because I can sense your confusion. You need advice do you not?"

            "Yes, but it hardly seems to matter. It's only boy trouble."

            "That's the only kind of trouble in the world." Gemma laughed and the sound reminded Gwen of bells tinkling from the harness of horses tied to a sleigh.

            "It's just that I love them both. As friends. I don't know if I want anymore than that from either of them."

            "There's nothing wrong with that." Gemma said with a smile.

            "I know, but Graves can't stand it when I'm around Harry. And Harry well. He frightens me quite frankly."

            "Why does he frighten you?"

            "He's the great Harry Potter. It never seemed like a big deal before I realized that he was real."

            Gemma smiled at her great-great-granddaughter. "I think you've solved this one on your own."

            "How?"

            "Harry scares you and you can't enter a deeper relationship with someone you're terrified of."

            "No, I suppose not, but there is something there. We have a deep connection already."

            "Well if you can figure out why he scares you exactly, then maybe you can get over it and explore this deep connection you have."

            "I suppose."

            Gemma smiled. "Yes. Well, you should get back to the school before you're missed." She kissed Gwen on the forehead, leaving a bit of a protection spell over her. Gemma sensed the dangerous shift in the air of late and didn't think it could hurt to give the girl a little more shielding.

            And while Gwen was still confused as ever, she knew she only had to figure out why it was that Harry made her so damn nervous.


	17. Another Letter

Episode Seventeen

            Between thinking of a really great way to get Malfoy back and trying to figure out her relationship with Harry, Gwen had never been busier. She didn't have much time left after her studies to pursue these extraneous "hobbies" as it were.

            She was bogged down enough when she received an owl from her mother at breakfast one morning.

            _"Dearest Gwen,_

_            Minerva told me of the attack. Why didn't you send me an owl? If the person responsible is still wandering around Hogwarts you could be in grave danger. I should have warned you that being friends with Harry Potter would draw far too much attention to you. And finding yourself in the arms of a Slytherin certainly won't help, will it? I must go into hiding for a while. I fear I may have been spotted during my visit to Hogwarts. I will contact you again if my situation changes._

_            In love and honor,_

_Your Mother."_

            How she knew about Graves was beyond Gwen, but she wasn't about to send another owl to ask.


	18. Last Straw

Episode Eighteen

Part One

Gwen took her seat at the Gryffindor table for lunch. Since the letter she'd been in a sour mood. She'd lost enough sleep over the last few days to make up for all the dreaming she'd done in the past leaving heavy rings of unrest under eyes. She was worried about her mother, about Harry and mostly that Graves was disappointed in her.

            Malfoy took special notice and as he slinked past her he made mention of her appearance.

"Why are you so sad today?" Malfoy babbled like a baby as he cruelly yanked Gwen's long ponytail.

            "Leave me alone Malfoy." She said without turning to look at him.

            "Did the death eaters order your mummy's death?" He asked in that same irritating baby voice.

            Gwen shot him a sharp glance. "What do you want?"

            "Simply to warn you. You should get your mourning clothes ready."

            She stared him down, but he didn't back away. Malfoy only smiled down on her.

            "Oh, just so I can tell my father, would you prefer an open or closed casket?"

            That was the last straw. She stood up and slapped him as hard as she could. McGonagall rushed down from the head table to break them up. All she needed was for Malfoy to grab his wand and reek havoc in the Great Hall. Snape was at her heels and grabbed Malfoy by his arm, dragging him from the hall. McGonagall lead Gwen in the opposite direction.

            Regardless of what he'd said to spark her anger, it was now apparent to all of the faculty who had attacked Minerva's goddaughter.

Part Two

When next Malfoy caught Gwen's eye in the hallway he whispered threateningly. "You'll pay for that. You will."

She smirked at him. "What do you want with me anyway?"

"You'll find out soon enough." He turned heel and walked away.

Graves had seen the exchange and ran over to her concerned.

"What curse would you like me to put on him?"

"None. I have it under control. As a matter of fact, I don't think I'm going to try and curse him anymore either. I think it would be best if I just let him be."

"He'll have you in the hospital wing again before you can shake a wand at him. He's not safe."

"No, he's not, but I don't think he can hurt me just now."

"Confidence can't protect you from curses Gwen. Wise up. He's going to try and hurt you and whether it's to get to me or Potter doesn't matter. I won't let him hurt you."

"Corwin." She said softly. He stopped. He knew that she only called him Corwin when it was truly important. Although how he knew this he wasn't certain. She continued. "There's a time to retreat and there's a time to battle. If we retreat now, we'll be alive to fight him another day."

            He gave her a hard look, and while he agreed he didn't want to be weak. Running away seemed like exactly the kind of thing any Slytherin would be against. He sighed. Maybe he wasn't really a Slytherin after all. "Fine." He said quietly.

            She watched him warily as he walked away. She knew he loved her. But would he keep his promise?


	19. Into Hiding

Episode Nineteen

            Aunt Minerva had called Gwen to her office. She was certain it wasn't for any offense, since slapping Malfoy she'd been angelic and studious. Turning her mind to her studies seemed to be the only thing to ease the knot of worry in her gut so that's what she did. She buried her anxiety under books and quills.

            The gut-knot returned immediately when she entered the office. Her mother was leaning against Minerva's desk, her face a dark mask. McGonagall was looking deeply disturbed, her lips drawn in a thin, tight line.

            "I have to leave." Her mother said.

            "What's wrong?" Gwen rushed.

            Beorc gave her a blank look.

            "Mother, I'm tired of playing games with you. Just tell me what's going on."

            "The death eaters know I'm alive. If they find me they'll kill me. They might even kill you."

            Gwen stared at her mother in cold shock. Everything was going well. All she really needed was death eaters chasing after her mother and possibly even her. Malfoy. Malfoy had said something about this.

            "Aunt Minerva, Malfoy said something about the death eaters ordering mother's death when I slapped him the other day."

            "Which was an incredibly stupid thing to do." Beorc said casually.

            "Mother, please. As if anything you've done with your life was intelligent. I know my temper got the better of me, but he was taunting me so. He asked if I wanted an open or closed casket for you. I just couldn't stand it anymore."

            Beorc gave her daughter a long look. "In any case, I need to go into hiding permanently this time. More name changes, more running." She sighed. "I hate running."

            McGonagall looked at both women sympathetically. "In any case Guenivere it's all been arranged. You'll be staying at Hogwarts to finish your education and I will take responsibility for you until such a time as you can care for yourself."

            "Does that mean I'll never see you again?" Gwen said softly to her mother.

            "It's a very strong possibility."

            Gwen stifled the tears in her eyes. She had to get through this and she would. She just wasn't sure how. She went to her mother and for the first time in her young adult life felt the woman hug her in return. She couldn't contain it any longer and broke into low, deep sobs. She felt her mother weeping in her arms and pulled away slightly.

            She wiped at her eyes and smiled. "I don't want your last memory of me to be crying like a stupid twit." She said, laughing through the sobs still choking her.

            Her mother looked at her with pure admiration. "You remind me so much of your father." She said, wiping her own tears and trying so very hard to be brave for her almost grown daughter. If Gwen could stand it, so could she. They said their last good byes then McGonagall helped Beorc to alter her appearance.

            She watched the muggle-looking woman exit the room and thought about how different life would be without her mother.


	20. The Healing Power of Canary Cremes

Episode Twenty

            Harry knew something was wrong when Gwen returned to the mostly empty common room that night. Her cheeks were smudged, her eyes rimmed with red and the entire air about her felt stifled. She looked fierce, like she was ready to break something (possibly Malfoy).

            He stepped up to her quietly and she fell into his open arms. She cried until there were no more tears and then she sat down and explained everything to him. Everything. Everything she'd been feeling for both he and Graves, the entire saga with her mother, meeting Gemma. She told him all of it. And when she had purged her soul she sat quiet, somehow relieved that Harry was just listening.

            He looked at her a long time before saying anything. The gears kept turning in his head. He could tell her how he felt for her. She had provided him with an opportunity to bear his soul as well. He sighed softly trying to decide where to start.

            "Gwen." He said softly but he was to be interrupted by a great crash from the boy's dormitory upstairs.

            "What the…" Gwen said.

            The Weasley twins stumbled down the stairs with big grins plastered on their faces.

            "Oy Fred, I didn't think it was going to be that strong."

            "I'm just please it worked." Fred replied, patting his brother proudly on the back. He noticed Gwen and Harry, looking fairly well morose but instead of leaving them alone he decided to cheer them up. He pulled a Canary Cream out of his pocket, swallowed it and burst into feathers.

            Both of them broke into a fit of giggles. For the time being, Harry's feelings would have to wait.


	21. Studying Animagi

Episode Twenty One

Part One

            Which was a good thing, because Gwen wasn't sure she could handle it at the moment. She was feeling sort of empty with no more feelings to share. Graves felt the distance, but didn't push it. He understood she was under a lot of stress. Even the antics of Chris and Gabrielle were not enough to cheer her up again.

            She hated being this way but she was so deep within the mires of despondence that she couldn't get back out so easily. Her mother had really thrown her for a loop this time. In the college world she would have escaped her woes inside a box of chocolate and some mellow music. But chocolate only got her fat and the kind of music she really wanted to hear needed a CD player (and electronics didn't work properly on Hogwarts grounds).

            She needed to find something else to concentrate on since there wasn't really anything she could do for her mother. Her inspiration came from Professor McGonagall one chilly afternoon in Transfiguration. Her godmother was turning a desk into a Great Dane when Gwen suddenly remembered the older woman's uncommon talent. She was an animagus and could transform herself into a cat at will.

            Awestruck Gwen found her new project. It would come in really handy one day, she was sure and it would take her until the next fall term to get it down. Or so she thought. Gwen had really underestimated herself. But without knowing she was quickly on her way to discovering a new talent she began her research in the library.

            When she'd looked through all the books about the subject in the non-restricted section she pitched the idea to McGonagall and asked for a note so that she could look at books in the restricted section.

            "An animagus?" She asked.

            "Yes." Gwen said, her confidence charging ahead. "I need something to do. I've been working really hard and I'm so far ahead on all my studies that I could tutor the rest of the students for the end of term exams already."

            Minerva smiled fondly at her. "If you're so determined, I don't think reading about it would hurt. But don't you dare try anything without letting me know first. I can help you in that department."

            Gwen nearly jumped for joy as McGonagall wrote out the note for her. The very next day she checked out every book she could on animagi and read until her eyes were so heavy they closed without her permission.

Part Two

            A strange dream pursued her tired brain. She was running again, running faster and faster away from a giant hand that was stretching across the Hogwarts grounds trying to grab her and strangle her. It was so close and the fear was rising in her chest. A fingertip glided across her ankle and she screamed. One more burst of speed and she would be free and clear in the Forbidden Forest.

            It was strange that the one place that was forbidden to the students was the one place that Gwen really felt safe. She ran harder as the lactic acid burned through her veins. Her muscles were screaming but she kept pounding her little legs as fast as she could. Her arms were swinging like hammers; her hair was rippling free in the wind.

            And suddenly she was flying. She wasn't sure how it had happened or what prompted the change, but she was rising higher soaring above the dark hand which was struggling to reach her from it's earthbound position. Her heart was beating so fast, her breathing was so heavy that she hardly noticed how light she was and how easy it had been to escape into the air.

            She noticed however that she wasn't on a broom. Her arms were not her arms. Her legs were not her legs. She had wings. Her feet had shrunk and now had bird-like talons. She had a tail full of feathers and a dull black beak protruding where her nose and mouth ought to be.

            Gwen had turned into a swan.

Part Three

            When Gwen awoke she felt the most refreshed she ever had. She grinned at the wane light pouring in through the windows of the common room and the light drizzle of late March rain pattering softly. How long she had been sleeping she wasn't entirely certain but she remembered every second of her dream.

            She was certain that if she attempted any changes in her physical form that she would become a gorgeous white Trumpeter swan with a dark black beak and soft yellow eyes. Gwen changed quickly in the dorms and ambled down to McGonagall's office. She sat outside waiting for her godmother to come down and start the day.

            "Why Guenivere?" She said as she nearly tripped over her. "What are you doing up so early?"

            "I thought we could try a little practice run today."

            "I thoroughly doubt you're ready for that advanced sort of magic yet."

            "I read all night Aunt Minerva and I had a dream. My dreams are usually pretty accurate premonitions."

            McGonagall snorted. "Divination is the most ridiculous branch of magic." She said, slowly trailing out at the resolute look on Gwen's face. "If you're that determined then we'll practice, but it's too early yet. Come meet me after your classes are finished."

            Gwen couldn't wait for the day to end.

Part Four

            Her stomach had been doing little flip-flops all day. This was the sort of thing she felt born for. Real magic, advanced and as difficult as it could be. Gwen was confident in her ability to became a full-fledged animagus. She simply needed to want it more than anything she'd ever wanted. Like the college Gwen had said in her dream: if you want it bad enough, you'll find that it's real.

            And she wanted this more than anything so far. It was the one thing she was certain about in her life, the one thing she could concentrate on and practice until it was perfect. Everything else was up in the air and she was just waiting for it to come crashing down.

            She sighed impatiently, trying to clear her mind of any negative thoughts. It wouldn't help her to be so worked up when she needed to concentrate solely on the task ahead. Finally the end of the school day arrived and Gwen rushed down to McGonagall's office all in a fluster.

            "I think," the girl said timidly, "I think that I might become a swan."

Minerva smiled knowingly. She had been equally nervous before her first attempt at becoming an animagus. Why it seemed only yesterday that she felt her frame shrink down into a tiny ball of fur. With practice she became more cat-like, better able to navigate as a feline. She was pleased at Gwen's eagerness and willingness to learn.

            They took the entire afternoon just practicing simple breathing and meditation to get her prepared. And then finally McGonagall told her to do it. "Just concentrate on the form you see in your head. Feel it as if it was a part of you and make it so." She became quiet, patiently waiting. She didn't expect much from Gwen on her first try.

            She was surprised when the girl closed her eyes, let her head drop just a bit and slowly began to alter. Her skin became bright white and then she was coated with pristine feathers. Her neck became long, her face thinned out to a dull, black beak. She was standing on two orangey webbed feet. There was a tiny patch of darker feathers in the shape of a star on her breast. Gwen had indeed become the swan she had spoken of.

            McGonagall knew of her talent, her ability as a quick-study student. But she had never seen a sixth year accomplish what Gwen had in just a few short weeks.


	22. The Balancing Act

Episode Twenty Two

Part One

            The term was quickly coming to a close and the students had never been more busy. Between studies and Quidditch practice Harry was particularly unavailable, something Graves took advantage of. He spent more of his time with Gwen than with any of his fellow Slytherins and soon Draco wasn't the only one who noticed their strange relationship blossoming.

            Just the same Gwen tried to balance her time with both boys.

            She still couldn't figure out just what it was about Harry that made her so nervous. It wasn't something she felt could easily be resolved and in the meantime she could try and sort out her feelings for Corwin which were growing stronger by the day.

            One sunny afternoon strolling about the grounds Graves pulled her aside, away from the other students enjoying the perfect weather. He took her hand in his slowly. She felt her insides turning over and over. Why couldn't she just make up her mind? Two guys more than willing to chop off their own feet to make her happy and she couldn't tell whom she wanted more. The glorious Harry Potter or the tortured Corwin Graves.

            Both had more baggage than she could understand, but that didn't matter to her. It was more that she'd never felt this way for any person before, let alone two people who felt the same in return.

            He was looking deep into her eyes now and she felt her knees go weak. He leaned in and planted a feather soft kiss on her lips. He smiled a lop-sided kind of grin and stepped back.

            "I've got to get back to the castle." He said hurriedly. "I forgot to do something." He had the biggest, stupidest smile on his face and Gwen couldn't help but giggle at him. He blushed scarlet and sprinted back to the castle with a new spring to his step.

            Maybe she could make up her mind.

Part Two

As Gwen went to sleep that night she had only one thought on her mind: how to tell Harry about her feelings for Graves. Since she'd already told him about her earlier doubts it seemed only fair to explain to him the final outcome of the situation.

            She was falling in love with a seventh year Slytherin named Corwin Graves.

            "Harry." She began softly when she finally found a moment to have him to herself in the common room.

            He gazed at her with mixed emotion, but Gwen only saw confusion in his bright green eyes.

            "I want to tell you how I feel." She said. "I think I've sorted out my feelings."

            "I know. I heard about you kissing that seventh year."

            "Oh Harry." She said with a rush of emotion.

            "I just want to know one thing." He said.

            "Anything."

            "What made you choose him over me?"

            She took a moment before beginning. "It's a lot of things Harry. I'm not really sure. I'm really terrified of…" She trailed off. She couldn't tell Harry she was terrified of him.

            He waited patiently. He really wanted to just jump up and scream, but he would rather hear it from her than some other person pushing gossip through Gryffindor house.

            "You know Harry," she said with tears welling up in her eyes. "I feel the same for you as I do for Corwin. I love you so much, but it's easier with him." She hesitated again. "Maybe someday…"

            He took her hand, wanting so badly to change her mind. He knew that if she did it wouldn't be anytime soon. She was right, it would be easier with Corwin. He gave her a heroic grin and through his own rising emotions said: "can I ask you a huge favor?"

            "Of course." She said quietly.

            "I want just one kiss from you. After that we can be the best of friends, but I just want this one thing from you before you… Just one kiss."

            Before she could answer an owl swooped down and dropped a letter on Harry's lap.

            "It's Hedwig." Gwen said softly, petting the owl lovingly.

            Harry opened the letter, perused its contents and blanched slightly.

            "Harry?"

            "I have to go Gwen, it's urgent. Please, just give my request consideration." With that he walked quickly out of the common room leaving Gwen to think about just one kiss.

Part Three

            Professor Snape was pacing up and down the dungeon during Double Potions on Thursday. It was unnerving Gwen, her hands shaking as she added far too much asphodel to her cauldron. She was fairly sloppy at potions to begin with and she didn't like the addition of the nervous jitters Snape was so aptly providing her.

            Her mind was obviously elsewhere, aptly caught between two boys as the average sixteen year old mind usually is. Professor Snape noted the return of her hazy, daydreamy demeanor. He meant to snap her out of it by riding her in class.

            He was breathing down her neck, she could feel the hairs prickling where he was staring at her. Her hand jerked sharply and she knocked a vile of foul smelling fluid on the floor. She sighed, this was not what she needed. She closed her eyes, trying to gather her composure and as she was about to grab a rag to clean up her mess she heard Snape whispering wickedly in her ear.

            "Princess Guenivere would like someone else to clean up her mess for her perhaps?"

            "I was about to get it professor." She said tersely. The students sitting around her pulled away reflexively; they had all seen this type of scene play out before. Gwen would open her mouth a little too far and Snape would lit into her something fierce.

            "Your delay is going to ruin my dungeon floor."

            "I don't believe olive juice has any acidic properties professor and I don't see how it could stain, it hasn't been sitting there long enough. If you'll let me clean it up now then it definitely won't and we wouldn't even have to have this discussion."

            Snape's deadly smirk fell and an even deadlier look came into his eyes. But Gwen was too busy pushing his buttons to notice that she already had him racing in the red. He reached a hand into his robes and pulled out his wand. The rest of the students gasped and pulled even further away. Gwen never broke eye contact with him. She was one of the few who didn't fear him.

            Snape pointed his wand at the spilled pile and whisked it away. His eyebrow arched. "For your impertinence Ms. LeFey, 20 points from Gryffindor. And for your continued attitude problem in this class, detention."

            Gwen continued to stare him down until he finally broke away to lecture class on the proper administration of the potion they'd just made. When she finally sat back down upon her stool she had to wonder if all the trouble was worth it.


	23. The Wish Granted

Episode Twenty Three

            Gwen hadn't spoken to Harry since that night in the common room and the end of term exams were upon them already. She didn't have time between running from test to test, serving a miserable detention with Snape and studying to tell him that she really wanted to grant his wish of just one kiss.

            She also didn't have much time to spend with Graves, who took it pretty well. He was pleased enough at her return of affections. She let him hug her in front of other people now and when he could he would steal a kiss. But there was hardly any time for either of them to steal away together.

            They weren't the only ones feeling the pressure of exams. Gabby wasn't her usual cheerful self and Chris was far too concentrated. He was determined to pass Transfiguration (his worst subject by far) and begged Gwen to tutor him. She obliged, stealing time to study herself and feeling the exhaustion begin to set in.

            And finally exams were over. When Gwen returned to the Gryffindor common room that evening people were milling about celebrating. The Weasley twins had been at it again and there was a full array of stolen refreshments for them to enjoy.

            Standing there looking forlorn among all the cheerful faces was Harry, hiding himself away in a corner. Hermione and Ron were nowhere to be seen. Gwen was certain that if they knew Harry was in this state they would be right at his side.

"What's wrong Harry? You look awfully pale." She said, approaching him slowly.

            "It's my scar. It's been throbbing all day. I think Voldemort is near."

            Gwen looked at him soberly for a moment. She could sense the danger too, but what was it?

            "What was that owl all about?" She asked suddenly.

            "It was from Dumbledore. He wanted to see me in his office." Harry stopped. He wasn't sure how much he could tell her.

            "You can trust me Harry." She said, sensing his hesitation and knowing instantly what it stemmed from.

            "It was from my godfather. He spotted Voldemort not long ago. He was in Ireland, which means he's too close for comfort. He sent a message to warn Dumbledore, but Dumbledore fears there might be some foul play afoot. My godfather hasn't messaged him since."

            Gwen laid a gentle hand on his arm. Harry brought his hand to his face and sighed deeply. "I don't know what to do." He said so softly she scarcely heard him.

            "I know exactly what you mean." She sympathized. "Let's go flying."

            He looked at her almost in disbelief, but he knew she had the right idea. Flying was the only thing to comfort him. He ran upstairs to grab his broom as she ran down to get hers. They met up again, exited the crowded common room and rushed downstairs and outside.

            The air was warm and hazy. The sun was just setting. They lifted off and floated away from their troubles for awhile. Regardless of her relationship with Corwin, Gwen had a very special connection to Harry. She had to acknowledge that and she understood that it might very well lead to something more if she wanted it to.

            "Harry."

            "Yes."

            "I want to give you that kiss." She smiled at him and although he couldn't see it he could feel it. He was smiling too.

            They touched down onto the grass lightly and no sooner were they on their feet than she was in his arms. He touched her hair, tucking it back behind her ear and cupped her cheek in his hand. "I've wanted this for a long time." He said quietly, leaning in and resting his lips on hers.

            They remained together, locked in a kind of trance as they kissed softly, deeply, fully.


	24. 2 or 3 Bad Things

Episode Twenty Four

            Things were just a little weird since Gwen had shared that kiss with Harry. He was trying really hard to play it cool, as was she, but to no avail. Things had changed between them and the relationship was definitely deeper than either of them had planned.

            But Gwen was devoted to Graves and she made this clear to Harry. Thankfully both of them would be leaving soon for summer holiday and Gwen would have all of Hogwarts to herself. She would spend time getting to know her godmother and now guardian and she definitely planned on taking advantage of her new status as a fully registered animagus.

            As it tends to go in life however for every good thing that happens, two or three bad things tend to happen that overshadow all the good. Gwen's life was no exception and while she had become accustomed to the up and down nature of the universe, she didn't think she'd ever become comfortable with it.

            Harry's scar kept hurting and she knew that danger was very near. The term was within days of ending and there was no way she could help him once he was gone (well, except for pelting him with owls every few days). There was still no word on Beorc's fate, not that Gwen expected any, but she was hoping that she might catch something. And Graves had something important to tell her…


	25. Something Important

Episode Twenty Five

            "They don't want your mother." Graves said quietly.

            "No?" Gwen said truly surprised that Graves knew anything about it.

            "No. They want you."

            "How do you know?"

            "A lot of my house mates have death eaters in the family. It's not too hard to hear a stray rumor and string it to some kind of truth."

            "Why would they want me dead?"

            "Besides the fact that you're extremely talented it would be a terrible punishment for your mother."

            "My mother."

            "For not becoming a death eater. I know all about it already. Somehow Malfoy knows everything and he can't keep his mouth shut."

            That sinking feeling had hit Gwen in the gut again. As long as she was at Hogwarts she was safe, but how long could she really hide there. She was a lot more like her mother than she realized. She couldn't stand all the hiding and running.


	26. A Challenge

Episode Twenty Six

            The day before everyone was supposed to leave Harry's scar finally stopped hurting.

            "It's as if the tension just let lose all at once. It just stopped."

            "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Gwen asked.

            "I dunno." Harry replied. "So far, a good thing. I couldn't concentrate. I'll be surprised if I make it to sixth year."

            Gwen laughed. "You will. With all the extra tutoring you had." She said smiling at Hermione, who had just joined them in the common room before the end of the term feast. When they arrived in the Great Hall it was decorated in the colors of Gryffindor. They took their seats, the girls sitting on either side of Harry with Ron sitting opposite to them.

            Graves was gazing over at Gwen from the Slytherin table. He didn't look too happy. She figured it had something to do with how close she was sitting to Harry or maybe it was about the death eaters. She couldn't be sure and she didn't really have time to ask him. She just wanted to enjoy this last bit of the term with her fellow Gryffindors, say goodbye to all of her other friends and finally just relax.

            Minerva kept a close eye on her goddaughter from the head table. She didn't know anything about what Corwin had said to her, but she had the feeling that Gwen was worried about something. It was as if someone had pulled a rubber band tight in her head and the tension wouldn't let go until she knew Gwen was completely safe.

            However the feast went without a hitch. Gryffindor had won the house cup once again, but was closely followed this year by Ravenclaw. The point difference was no more than 10 points and the Slytherin table stared gloomily about the hall having fallen into third place.

            Finally it was time to head up to their respective common rooms and then to bed. It would be a long journey on the train for most of them tomorrow. Gwen slowly got to her feet, shuffling out of the hall close to the last person out.

Malfoy glared at Gwen as she walked past. "I challenge you to a wizard's duel." He said so that only she could hear it. "Midnight, Transfiguration room."

            "I accept." She said coldly, smirking at him. It wasn't such a good idea, but she felt like maybe now she could avenge herself for his terrible curse.


	27. The Duel

Episode Twenty Seven

Part One

            It seemed entirely extraordinary that Malfoy would challenge Gwen to a duel the very last night of the semester. But Gwen was up to the challenge. She would show him exactly what she was made of. That is if Graves would let her.

"I'm your second." He said, having seen the exchange and wisely guessing the result.

"Fine, you're my second. But Malfoy won't even have the chance to disarm me, let alone kill me."

"Gwen, when are you going to wake up?"

"To what?"

"To the reality that Malfoy is deadly. He doesn't care if he gets expelled. He'll kill you anyway. Consider it an early enrollment into the death eaters fan club. They'd admit him in a second if he had your death under his belt."

She sighed. Graves was going to argue her into the ground. "Fine. He's deadly. He'll try to kill me. You're my second. So if he succeeds do me a favor and kill him."

Graves looked at her gravely. "I'm serious."

"And I'm taking you seriously. We meet at midnight in the Transfiguration classroom."

Part Two

When they arrived at midnight the classroom was dark. They waited and within moments Malfoy appeared with Goyle at his side. Malfoy had his wand out.

Before Gwen and Graves could stop him Malfoy had disarmed them of their wands and had handed them over to Goyle for the meantime. Graves stood waiting tensely, prepared to jump on Malfoy if the chance presented itself. Malfoy raised his wand, trying to think of a quick curse to rid him of the two of them.

While he was thinking Graves seized the moment and jerked Malfoy's wand out of his hand. He plunged it into his robes, keeping it out of anyone's eager hands. Out of options, Malfoy raised his fist to punch Gwen.

            "You'd hit a girl?" Graves asked.

            Gwen sucker punched Malfoy before he had the chance to answer. "Some girl." He growled from the floor.

"Whatever happened to feminism?" Gwen exclaimed.

"Feminism?" Graves asked.

Gwen shook her head in disbelief. "I don't have time for this. I'll explain it to you later."

Malfoy was up again and ready for another round. Without their wands all they had were fists and well placed kicks to defend themselves. To Graves this seemed like an unfair match. To Gwen it was finally even ground. They went several rounds, both of them taking hits, falling and recovering. Malfoy was decidedly worse for the wear. _Thank god I took those self-defense classes in college, Gwen thought._

            With one last burst of power, Gwen pummeled Malfoy landing three punches right, left, right. He fell to the ground unconscious and Gwen almost giggled at the light giddy feeling in her head. She'd taken one too many hits herself, but seeing Malfoy crumpled on the floor from a bare fist-fight was something to be truly proud of.

            Graves looked at her, terrified and amazed. The same feeling she had for Harry was now welling up in Graves belly. She frightened him when she was on top of her game and he'd never seen her this good, without magic. He couldn't imagine how Malfoy would have survived if she had had her wand.

            "Take him back to the dorm and toss him in bed." Graves said to Goyle, who looked at them with some confusion. Finally he spoke.

            "Nice work Gwen." He said, switching wands with Graves.

            She looked at him completely stunned. Goyle had never spoken to her before and she was surprised that he knew her name. She smiled at him and nodded. "Thanks."

            The boy hefted Malfoy onto his shoulder and struggled out of the classroom.

            "That was magnificent." Graves said softly, the terror he felt barely contained within his voice.

            She smiled and patted his arm softly. "Could you walk me back to Gryffindor, I'm not sure I can make it on my own."

            He picked her up gingerly, much to her dismay. "I can walk, you know."

            "I don't care." He said, holding her tightly.


	28. Nice Trophy

Episode Twenty Eight

            The next day dawned bright and the students tumbled out of beds, groaning as they dressed for the train ride home. Gwen was the last out of bed, pulling the covers up over her head repeatedly to avoid the daylight. She was having this great dream where she and Harry were flying around, throwing snowballs filled with ice at Malfoy.

            She couldn't fight the morning any longer. She finally trudged out from under her covers, slipped on some clothes and wandered down to the Great Hall. She didn't really understand why many of the students were craning their necks around to see her, but apparently the news had spread fast.

            Gwen had single-handedly beaten the crap out of Malfoy and as she took her seat at Gryffindor table many of the students around her shouted their congratulations.

            "You should have that looked at." Hermione said, strained on the edges.

            "What?"

            "Your eye."

            Gwen reached up and touched the bottom of her right eye. It stung to the touch and she winced. She leaned over her golden plate and saw a huge shining black eye looming back up at her.

            "Nice trophy." Fred Weasley laughed.

            "I don't know what's better: that someone kicked Malfoy's ass or that it was a girl that did it." George added.

            Gwen rolled her eyes. He had earned this beating and for one bright and shining morning, Gwen was the hero of the entire student body at Hogwarts. Even some of the Slytherins had been hoping Malfoy would get his comeuppance, they didn't care who handed it to him.

            But the students had to leave and the summer would erase from their memory the defeated look on his face as he strolled in with not one, but two black eyes, several cuts and a severe limp. Yet for the moment every student had a special shine in their eyes and a tiny smile hiding under their noses. Gwen couldn't help but flush with the rush of excitement.

            Then it was all over. The students were leaving the hall and heading towards the front lawn, where carriages waited to carry them to the station at Hogsmeade. Gwen waved as the sea of people thinned to a tiny trickle. Hermione waved to Gwen, Ron grinned from ear to ear and blew her a kiss.

            Chris and Gabby hugged her before entering a carriage together. Gwen was glad to see them hitting it off so well; they were hanging out together without her now. Graves looked at her, not sure what he should do. She hugged him softly and whispered into his ear, "Be good." He left with a confused smile and thought for the first time that maybe she was working some fey magic over him.

            The only one left was Harry. He strode over to her shyly.

            "I'm sorry you're leaving." She said quietly.

            "Me too. But Dumbledore says I might be able to come back early. It's not too safe out there and it might be better if I just stayed here. So you might see me sooner than later."

            "I'll write everyday."

            "I will too." He said with a little grin. He went to hug her and changed his mind. He kissed her cheek instead and she blushed furiously. "Take care and have a good summer."

            "Bye Harry." She said waving slowly as he ran to catch up to the last carriage before it pulled away.


	29. Snape's Thoughts

Episode Twenty Nine

Part One

            Anyone else might have felt that being alone in a huge castle with no one other than ghosts and teachers would have been creepy and weird. To Gwen, this was heaven. All of Hogwarts was open for her to explore and no one was going to yell at her for being late to class or taking points off her house for being out of bed.

            She spent the first week exploring a new floor everyday. By the end of the week she still hadn't discovered the entire layout of the castle, but she had a much better idea of its shape and some of its functions. She ate most of her meals with Aunt Minerva in the Gryffindor common room, for only the two of them there wasn't much point in going all the way down to the great hall.

            She had already sent Harry two notes by owl and was finishing writing the third when Lucille bounded into her lap, demanding her attention. "All right, all right." Gwen said to the cat. "Let me put down my quill."

            Lucille rolled over and let Gwen scratch her belly, stroke her ears and tease her with a piece of string she dangled from her sore fist. Finally the cat tired of their games and stalked away. Gwen laughed. "You interrupted me for that?"

            She turned to finish her note.

            "_Dear Harry,_

_            How are things? I told you I was going to write as often as I could, and since I don't really have anything to do except wander around the castle and study for next year (Hermione would be proud) I guess you'll be getting a whole lot more mail this summer. Lucille says hi. As a matter of fact she interrupted me just to make sure I'd tell you. I do hope you get to come back early. It's so lonely here sometimes._

_            Cheers,_

_            Gwen_"

            She wandered up to the Owlery and borrowed one of the school owls to deliver her letter. Harry hadn't yet replied, but she understood that it was difficult for him. The muggles he lived with were simply atrocious.

            She had been writing to Graves as well. He had responded to every owl immediately, eating up anything she had to say to him. She wrote to him mostly about her dreams, since Graves was very good at interpreting them.

            Her dreams were bordering on the strange again. Sometimes she was the swan, flying away from the dark hand. Sometimes she was running to Gemma's mound in the Forbidden Forest. Mostly she was gazing at herself in the mirror.

            This dream was by far the strangest, because she just stood there, staring herself down. She didn't know what she was looking for or why she just stood there for hours. Every dream the same, looking deep into her own eyes, searching for truth.

            Graves didn't know what to make of this dream either. He was just happy that she was safe and protected within the enchanted walls of Hogwarts.

Part Two

            Professor Snape was staring sidelong at Gwen, taking her first meal in the great hall since the term had ended. Minerva couldn't meet her for lunch, so she ambled down by herself to see if any of the other professors were eating. It was only Snape at the head table. She didn't dare return his gaze. She couldn't understand that he was simply amazed at her. The only other person to avoid death at the hands of the death eaters had been Harry Potter. Once it was ordered, you were as good as buried. It was not to be so in the case of these two extraordinary children.

            Snape understood why Harry had been ordered to death. He was forbidden by Dumbledore to reveal that secret. He also understood why he had survived. The love of his mother had protected him from the Avada Kedavra curse, which when uttered would terminate your life instantly.

            As for Gwen, it was a mystery. Her death had been ordered after he left the death eaters, so he didn't know the reason. And somehow the death eaters had never found her, something else he didn't understand. Her she was, alive and confused looking. Her death had been avoided for the time being and Snape was certain the death eaters had given up trying to find her. Of course, he also knew that they would try again. He knew certain things about her past and he understood it was only a matter of time before she was back on the top of their hit list.

            There was something about this girl that put him on his guard. If she could hide herself so well from the death eaters then she was very powerful, or had very powerful connections. He remembered her mother very well, a Slytherin who turned her back on Lord Voldemort at the height of his power.

            There was more to Guenivere LeFey than she even knew herself.


	30. The Return of Mother

Episode Thirty

            She looked in a mirror as she passed it. The reflection was confused and quiet.

            Gwen couldn't look deeply enough. Something was preventing her. Maybe she didn't want to know the truth anymore. So many lies had followed her around and she knew very well that her mother hadn't told her everything.

            Lost in her thoughts she had run headlong into a nervous looking muggle woman. She didn't recognize her, but she knew instantly. "Hello mother." She whispered.

            Beorc looked up at her daughter with a pale smile. "What did you call me dear?"

            "You can't fool me. Where can we talk?"

            "Perhaps you should go speak to Professor McGonagall."

            "I'll be at her office in ten minutes."

            No sooner was the muggle woman out of her sight than Gwen broke into a run. She didn't know what her mother was doing back here, but she was going to find out. She arrived at McGonagall's office out of breath. She took her godmother by surprise.

            "Gwen, can I help you?"

            "Yes." She said softly to the older woman. "Mother is here."

            Minerva raised her eyebrow. She didn't know that Beorc was visiting nor did she approve. There was a low knock on the door and McGonagall raised herself to answer it. When she opened the door she beheld a shabby, frightened looking muggle woman. When she closed it Beorc towered before her, beautiful with dark hair and eyes flashing a frown.

            "What are you doing here?" Minerva asked her former student.

            "I came to check in on Gwen."

            "You know it's not safe for you here and by coming you might even be endangering her life." The older woman said, indicating Gwen.

            "I know, but I had to come."

            "What now mother?" Gwen asked exasperated.

            "It's about you mostly. But also about your father's family. I need to explain something to you."

            Gwen waited for her mother to start. McGonagall seated herself behind her desk again. By now it was known among the three of them that family business included her. Beorc paced slowly up and down the room. Why was it that telling the truth terrified her so much? Indeed, it was ten times worse when she had to tell the truth to her daughter.

            "Well, your uncle George as you know is a squib. He was the big surprise in the family, the only LeFey unable to practice magic. But your aunt Ann…" She trailed off.

            "Oh do tell mother, I'm dying to find out if there's more to this story."

            "Your aunt Ann is a witch." Beorc continued, ignoring her daughter's outburst. "When we left you with them for our vacation you were well taken care of. And when the death eaters came for your father…"

            "They were really coming for me. I won't bother asking why you didn't tell me sooner. I'm just going to ask you to tell me everything now. And I mean everything."

            Beorc stared at her. "How did you find out?"

            "I have friends in every house at Hogwarts mother. Some of them have connections to what's going on outside of here."

            "Well I'm glad to see they've come in handy for you." Her mother replied sarcastically. "The fact of the matter is I don't really know everything I have to tell you."

            "What do you mean?" Gwen asked, nearly at the end of her patience.

            "I don't know why the death eaters wanted to kill you and not me."

            "Graves thinks that it would be a punishment for you."

            "And it would." She said, noticing the doubt in her daughter's eyes. "But I don't think it's that. Ann protected you very well seven years ago. Just the same, I'm surprised they didn't find you. I think you might have a power all your own, given to you by your fey blood that I can't fathom."

            "I could ask Gemma."

            "Gemma? She's still alive?" Beorc asked.

Minerva looked at both of them confused, but rather than interrupting she waited until after Beorc had left again and asked Gwen to fill her in. "Who is Gemma?"

"My great-great-grandmother. She has a mound on Hogwart's grounds. She is the source of all the fey blood in my family. I think I should ask her if she knows anything."

            "That would be a good place to start."

            "But her mound is in the Forbidden Forest."

            McGonagall looked at her, a little startled. "Is that why you snuck out that night?"

            "I think so. I didn't know she was there then, but she was calling to me."

            "I will give you permission to seek her out, but you must only go during the daytime and only when you let me know first that you're going."

            "Of course." Gwen said with a smile. "I'm going to go tomorrow afternoon."


	31. A Fey Name

Episode Thirty One

Part One

            The sunshine greeted Gwen as she waltzed across the lawn. She was going to enter the Forbidden Forest and find her great-great-grandmother for some much needed answers. The forest seemed a completely different place in the daytime.

            It was still eerie, not even sunshine could change that, but it was less foreboding. There was a welcoming feeling that only Gwen felt here and she knew it was because her family had opened the forest to her. Any other student would have been just as glad to stay on the perimeter, even further away if they could.

            She found the mound easily enough and stepped inside. Gemma was sitting there in all of her glory. "I was wondering when I'd see you again." She said in her soft, tinkling voice.

            "Yes. I have some questions for you."

            Gemma smiled and offered her great-great-granddaughter a seat. "Of course you do. You want to know what fey powers you have."

            "Yeah." She said softly, taking a seat at the finely crafted table. It had an intricate carving of daisies around the edge and looked like it was made of silver.

            "There is much to tell you." Gemma smiled at Gwen's amazement over the table. The rest of their surroundings were rather dim and as such there was really nothing else to look at.

            Gwen finally looked up. "What is the deal with me anyway?"

            Gemma laughed gently. "You're one of a kind Guenivere."

            "I just feel like I'm not going to make it out of Hogwart's alive."

            "Don't worry dear. I see that you're not to be the last of our line."

            Gwen stared at her disbelieving.

            "Fey have a talent for seeing the future."

            "I'd noticed."

            "Yes dear, you inherited that from us. You don't even need those silly methods they teach you up at the school. But you've never really looked for the future, it has chosen to show itself to you now and then. I imagine if you actually tried you'd be quite the seer. You have nothing to fear yet. The times are dark, but you will survive to have children."

            "And that's the other thing. Who will I have children with?"

            "That hardly matters dear."

            "Perhaps not right now, but I would like to know."

            Gemma smiled kindly on her. "You've been having strange dreams again?"

            "Yes." Gwen said quietly. "I've been staring at myself in a mirror, but I have no idea why. The swan dream at least made sense."

            "Yes, I was pleased to see your progress with that project."

            "You watch me?"

            "Sometimes." The older woman replied. "Everyone needs someone to watch over them. Even with you're incredible power, even you need a guardian."

            "What incredible power?"

Part Two

            Gwen spent the rest of the afternoon with her great-great-grandmother sorting through her past, present and future. She found that her fey abilities seemed a lot clearer to her in the mound than they did outside in the fresh air. Maybe it was the power of the mound itself helping her to focus.

            She found that if she concentrated enough she could levitate off the ground without the use of her wand. She could see through invisibility charms and most disguises; the other side of this was that she could appear invisible and disguise herself in any form she chose at will. Much like becoming an animagi, except that she could become anything.

            "You must know a few things before you leave." Gemma said, watching Gwen turn herself into a china vase and back into herself again.

            "I'm sorry." She gushed, "this is so amazing."

            "Of course, as with any new trick you learn. But you must know these three very important things."

            Gwen sat again and looked at Gemma with rapt attention.

            "First, you are very allergic to iron. All fey are. Prolonged exposure to it will sap your powers and make it difficult for you to escape."

            "No wonder why I always hated potions. Cast iron cauldrons."

            "Yes, I suggest you find yourself a cauldron made of some other metal. Of course, it is not as bad for you since you are only part fey, but it could pose a threat and I want you to be aware of it. Secondly, no other human must enter the mound with you. If they do they will not be allowed to leave until Gwynn Ap Nudd."

            "Gwynn Ap Nudd?"

            "It is the day that the faerie king opens the mounds for all to get a glimpse of our world. The human mortals may pass our gates and leave again, but only on this day. Therefore dear I am afraid I will not be able to meet any of your friends unless I leave the mound. Thirdly, and this is the most important, you must never tell anyone your real name."

"My real name?"

"Guenivere is the name given to you by your mother, but all fey have a name given to them by the king. This name must never be revealed to anyone. It can be used to control you."

"I don't know it myself."

"Perhaps it is best that way, but if you would like to know it you have only to ask."

            "I do have one question." Gwen said and while she would have liked to have known her fey name, she thought it best if she didn't know it just yet. "How come the death eaters never found me?"

"You've been hiding yourself unconsciously from their grasp, from the moment you were born. You truly are amazing."

            "Is that even possible?"

            "Yes, but now that you know it you must make a conscious effort to keep it so."

            She nodded. If she'd been doing it unconsciously all along it couldn't be that hard to do it consciously. She mounted the steps out of the mound and waved to Gemma. "I'll visit again soon."

            "I'll be waiting for you."


	32. The Bronze Cauldron and Welcome Home

Episode Thirty Two

            The summer was steam-rolling by finding Gwen more confused than ever. While many of her questions had been answered and she was beginning to understand her magical powers she still had many questions.

            The eerie dream of standing before the mirror was back after a brief respite and Gwen was trying her hardest not to sleep if she could help it. She thought perhaps that if she learned her fey name the dream would go away. Maybe having a name to go with her face would help.

            But she plugged through the sleepless nights and often shook herself awake if the dream began to replay itself. Finally she concocted a terrific anti-sleeping draught with the help of an astonished Professor Snape (most students were too intimidated to ask for his help and with Gwen's class record it didn't seem like she'd come asking him for help). When she did sleep she was so thoroughly exhausted that she couldn't dream

            She took Gemma's advice and traded in her cast iron cauldron for a bronze one. It was a bit more flashy but she found her concentration cleared and that she actually had a talent for potions. Snape noticed this of course during their work together on the anti-sleeping potion and made a mental note. She wasn't about to explain that it was the new cauldron, but she thought he might have guessed as much anyway.

            In two more weeks the students would arrive on the Hogwart's Express and classes would begin. Gwen was amazed that the summer was almost over. As she was walking through the great hall one evening she found to her surprise that she was not the only student at school.

            Harry was standing before her his hair plastered to his forehead by the driving rain outside. They stood gazing at each other a full minute before either of them made a move. They spoke simultaneously.

            "Why are you here?" She asked.

            "What happened to you?" He asked.

            She sighed. "You first."

            "I came because I…" He looked at her a long moment. "Something's changed with you."

            "Yeah." She said quietly. "I can't really explain it just yet. But finish."

            "I was nervous about you. I had an awful dream. And my scar was hurting again."

            She took him into a soft hug. "I'm ok." She smiled. "Let's get you upstairs and into some dry clothes. Does Dumbledore know you're here?"

            He looked at her as if he'd never before seen such amazing calm. "No, he doesn't. I didn't even tell the Dursleys where I was going."

            "You flew here?" She said finally noticing that his right hand clutched his broomstick and that his invisibility cloak was tucked firmly under his arm.

            "I didn't know what else to do. I was in a panic. The dream was so real."

            She helped him up the stairs and into the common room. He smiled at her gratefully as she stoked the fire for him and turned an Arithmancy book into a teapot to start something warm for him to drink. "I'll be back shortly and then you can tell me everything."

            She left him to find her godmother, who might know better how to handle the situation. "Harry's here." She said when she finally found her, tending to her classroom. Classes would be starting soon and she didn't want anything to be amiss.

            "Harry Potter?" Minerva spluttered.

            "Yes, the Harry Potter. He was nervous about something. A dream he had and he said his scar was hurting again. He flew all the way here under his invisibility cloak."

            "Oh dear. I must tell Professor Dumbledore at once."

            "Harry and I will be in the Gryffindor common room." Gwen said wisely.

            "Keep him there."

            She forced a smile and ran back upstairs to tend to Harry again. He dried off some and was snoozing quietly in one of the giant cushy chairs. She sighed. At least he was ok and safe within the walls of Hogwarts once again.

            Minerva returned flanked by Dumbledore and Snape. "What happened?" Dumbledore asked calmly.

            "We didn't get that far." She said, trying as best she could to fill them in on everything she knew.

            "His scar hurt again?" Snape said, raising an eyebrow. "How interesting."

            Gwen looked at him with a little frown. Snape could be so creepy sometimes; it chilled her blood to think of him. No wonder so many first years cried after their first Potions lesson.

            "I feel like this is my fault." Gwen said. "After all, his dream was about me."

            "That's a perfectly reasonable way to feel." Dumbledore said. "But you must realize it is not your fault. Harry is not easily controlled by anyone."

            Gwen laughed at this_. No_, she thought, _he isn't. Harry slept peacefully on while the four of them conferenced._

            "There's nothing to be done but keep him here." Minerva suggested. "I will collect his things from Privet Drive myself first thing in the morning. At least he's here where we can keep an eye on him."

            Dumbledore nodded in agreement. Snape kept up his usual mask of discontent. He didn't really like the idea of having to keep an eye on Harry, but he wasn't about to say so.

            The Professors decided to conference on their own and left Gwen and Harry alone in the common room.

            She gazed at him a long time before pulling a chair up to his. She sat down and snuggled up to him as much as the chairs afforded her to. She sang to him quietly. "Blackbird singing in the dead of night. Take these broken wings and learn to fly. All your life you were only waiting for this moment to arise. Blackbird singing in the dead of night. Take these sunken eyes and learn to see. All your life you were only waiting for this moment to be free. Blackbird fly. Blackbird fly into the light of a dark black night."

            Harry raised his head just a little. He opened his eyes and gazed at her while she sang. She was the most magical thing in his life. Even if he couldn't "have her" per say, at least he knew that she loved him. She smiled at him one of her most winning grins and blushed uncontrollably.

            "Don't stop." He said. "It was beautiful."

            She continued, "blackbird singing in the dead of night. Take these broken wings and learn to fly. All your life you were only waiting for this moment to arise. You were only waiting for this moment to arise."

            He took her hand in his own, squeezed it tightly. "This is the first time all month that my scar hasn't hurt."

            "You're at Hogwarts. You're safe now. You're home."


	33. Guenivere, Lancelot and King Arther

Episode Thirty Three

            By the end of the week Harry still hadn't explained his frightening dream to her. He felt that if he did it would entirely change the nature of their relationship. He felt like he was finally getting a grip on it and he didn't want that to weaken and slip.

            "Harry?" Gwen questioned him quietly one night in the common room. She was dressed in a silky nightgown and her hair was down in waves over her shoulders. Harry wanted to run to her, take her in his arms and ravish her that instant. When he turned sixteen, it was as if someone had turned on the hormonal switch. He couldn't get the sexy thoughts of Gwen out of his head and the clingy material of her nightgown wasn't helping any.

            "Yes." He replied after a moment's hesitation filled with irresistible thoughts.

            "I wanted to ask you what your dream was about."

            "Oh."

            "You don't have to tell me. I just wanted to know what would make you fly cross-country to Hogwarts. Just for me."

            "It wasn't just that, but trust me even it was I still would've come; it was awful." He said simply.

            "What else is it?"

            "My godfather." Harry looked at her with haunted eyes, darkened by something devastating. "It was on the muggle news. The local authorities a little north from Little Winghing  found the body of Sirius Black."

            "He's dead?" She took his hand in hers.

            Harry nodded somberly. "I have to speak with Dumbledore about it, but I think so." He looked for all the world like a man standing still on thin ice he knows will break. Gwen couldn't say anything; she didn't know what to say. She had faced loss like this, but there was little anyone could say to console Harry. His godfather, his last true connection to his father and mother was dead. She simply held his hand, looking down into her lap. She waited, waited until he felt safe to speak again.

            "This only confirms to me that Voldemort is out for me again. And perhaps because of our relationship, you."

            "I'm fine Harry." Gwen said with a humorless laugh. She didn't fear the Dark Lord and Harry's concern seemed like dark comedy to her.

            "I know and I'm very glad Gwen, but something's different about you. You've taken cavalier to the next level."

            Gwen grimaced a forced smile. She shook her head not sure how to respond. She needn't have bothered spending the next moments scrambling for something witty to remark because Harry spoke again, interrupting all of her best comebacks.

            "Something's different about you all right; something's different about us."

            "Us?" She asked quietly.

            "Can't you feel it?" He asked with passion. "I'm in love with you Gwen."

            She sighed deeply and closed her eyes. "I know that Harry."

            "But you don't know. You think you know. I can't get you out of my head Gwen. I know so much about you. I know you've been to see Gemma again. You always seem different after a visit with her. I know this was a big visit."

            "It was." She said amazed that Harry knew her almost as well as her mother did.

            "Listen, I know you chose Corwin. I resigned myself to that. It will be easier with him and I understand all of the reasons why you did it. But you can't deny that we have something."

            Gwen looked at him startled. Of course there was an intense chemistry between them and it was building every day that they spent together. Since Corwin had graduated he would not be returning to distract her from Harry again. However he sent owls every day with pages and pages of love letters, enough so that she could ignore the aching sensation that Harry left in her belly.

            "Harry, I can't. I don't know what to do."

            "If you're going to be with him then be with him. Don't let me stop you."

            "Harry, please."

            "Damnit Gwen, what do you want from me?"

"Harry, I am Guenivere. You're my Lancelot and Corwin is my King Arthur."

            He looked at her deeply for a moment. She was sobbing uncontrollably now and he didn't know what to do. He wanted to comfort her with an arm wrapped around her shoulder, but he thought that it would only complicate matters more. He was right in his assumption, but his lack of physical contact with her did not stop the emotional damage.

            Both of them were hurting and Gwen had never been so confused in her entire confusing life.


	34. The Gamut

Episode Thirty Four

            What Gwen wouldn't do for a pair of headphones and some Pearl Jam right about now. Something about Eddie Vedder put her at ease, his low, rough voice crooning her to sleep. She missed those times at college when she could just listen to him all night curled up with Harry Potter.

            But that was when Harry Potter didn't really exist. He was just a character in a book with a really screwed up life and Gwen was a fan. Now she had Harry in her life, even more screwed up. She wiped away her tears.

            Everything be damned. If she was going to fuck this up she was going to fuck this up right. She stormed upstairs to the boys dormitory after Harry, threw open the door and stopped to look.

            Harry sat on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. He'd been crying too.

            "Harry." She said, her courage beginning to quail. _No_, she said to herself, _I'm doing this_. "Harry, I love you."

            He looked up and blinked slowly at her. The tears were fresh on his cheeks and he looked no worse for the salt tracks. "I know Gwen." He said quietly

"No. You don't. So I'm going to tell you." She looked so determined, her face screwed up in a half frown- half smile hands on her hips. "I've been in love with you since that very first time you touched my hand. I fell into a trance and I fell in love. And I don't know why Harry, but you scare the shit out of me quite frankly. I want to know why, but it's not anything I can just figure out. And I thought that if you scared me so then maybe it would be better to be with Corwin. He doesn't scare me like you do. But now I think I scare him. So I guess we're all in the same boat. And when it boils right down to it you're the one I want to spend the rest of my life with. I know we're young and we have our whole lives ahead of us, but I really love you. Really and deeply." She stopped. One of her favorite Jimmy Eat World songs popped into her head and she finished on some of their lyrics. "If I don't let myself be happy now then when? If not now, when?"

Harry gazed at her dumbstruck. He had no words to describe the entire gamut of emotions he was running.


	35. Harry's Nightmare

Episode Thirty Five

Part One

            After several minutes trying to catch her breath and Harry pondering over her exclamation Gwen was ready to trudge back downstairs. Harry was obviously cranking the gears in his head and it might be awhile before he had a response.

            She was working her way quietly to the door when Harry suddenly noticed her intention. "You can't leave after a pronouncement like that." He said, with mock irritation.

            "I figured you might need some time to work this out in your head."

            "Well, I do. But I have some questions for you before you go."

            "Ok." She said, leaning against one of the four poster beds. This was exactly like the girls' dorm except that it smelled decidedly male. Even the summer couldn't cure it of that purely hormonal scent.

            "I scare you?"

            "Yeah? I can't really explain that one. You just make me shiver sometimes. Snape does that to me. But not the same way. He's just creepy. You're different. Maybe it's because you're so powerful and I never in a million years would have suspected that you could love me. Remember, you were a fictional character to me for 7 years almost."

            He cringed slightly and then nodded as if understanding. Even though it didn't make any sense to Gwen it was making sense to Harry. He was fitting all of the little pieces together for her. "And what about Corwin?"

            "Regardless of what you decide I'll just have to owl him and tell him the truth. My heart belongs to someone else."

            "And before either of us goes to bed you must tell me about your visit with Gemma."

            "Only if you tell me about your dream."

            Harry felt a surge of fear and it showed on his face. Gwen went to his side then and wrapped her arms around him. "I know I probably shouldn't touch you, but I don't care. You need someone to hold you now."

            Harry shook his head. "Gwen you can touch me whenever you want." He laughed. "Please."

            He spent a moment tickling her and she him, rolling around on the floor giggling like idiots. They ended in a warm embrace, Harry having her pinned to the floor. He looked down into her eyes deeply. "You have so much to tell me." He said. "And I you."

Part Two

            Gwen and Harry spent the rest of the night snuggled up under his blankets. She told him everything she could about her visit to Gemma and her amazing powers. She didn't mention anything about her real name. If he needed to know that it would be much later, after she herself found out.

            It was his turn to speak and he looked as if he'd swallowed an elephant. He was trying so hard to articulate the images flashing in his brain, the broken fragments of his dream. He had to tell her. He was certain it was a warning because his scar only hurt when there was danger coming. The scar had ached for some time but it was particularly thunderous the night of the dream. This girl shared a part in his future now.

            Finally choking on his words as he forced them out he began to relay the fabric of his dreams. "Gwen, it still hurts to me to even think on it." He said softly, his voice catching on her name. "It was very dark. You were standing by my side and you looked so happy. You had this sweet expression on your face and I just want to look at you forever. But it was getting darker all the time and soon I couldn't see you at all. I felt your hand ripped out of mine and I heard you screaming over and over. And when finally I got to you…" He trailed off, the fear brilliant in his eyes.

            "Harry, it's ok. It was just a dream."

            "It wasn't Gwen, it was a warning and you need to know. I have to finish." He said the last bit more for himself than her. He was steeling himself for what was about to come out of his mouth and memory. "The light returned just enough to see you. You were lying on the ground; your wand had been shattered. There was a circle of death eaters and your mother was among them."

            Gwen gasped.

            "I know, but I don't know what that means. She wasn't robed. You looked dead, but you weren't. They were taunting you. They had used the Cruciatus curse on you to the point that there wasn't much left to do in order to kill you. I couldn't do anything to save you. I was frozen with fear and horror. I've never felt so helpless in all my life."

            She looked into his green eyes, pale in the dim candle light. He had been through hell. No wonder he flew all the way to Hogwarts.

            "It was so real." He whispered, clutching her tightly to his chest. "It was so real."


	36. The Most Powerful Witch Alive

Episode Thirty Six

            When dawn arrived the young lovers were still tangled together, wrapped tight against the fear of Harry's dream. Gwen wanted to hold him forever, to protect him from the pain she felt rising steadily every day.

            Maybe that was part of being human. Maybe the pain made us better people, better able to appreciate it when we did have good things in our lives. Harry knew nothing but pain, she thought bitterly. She had led a charmed life in her dreams with her share of crest-falls and crescendos. The Hogwart's world had its share of painful memories for her, more surfacing everyday. But she knew Harry had seen the bottom of the pit of despair, something she had only peered into.

            She pulled him closer and kissed the scar on his forehead softly.

            Harry woke suddenly and looked at her eyes wide. No one had ever touched his scar before, not with bare hands or even lips. She pulled back only slightly, not certain what had caused his sudden arousal. He felt a strange lightness fill his body and a sense of comfort and security he had only ever felt at Hogwarts and at the Weasleys' home. Yet this comfort was intense, almost too strong to really feel. If Harry opened his heart to it he feared he would burst.

            He brushed her hair back from her face and searched it for meaning. She was just gazing back at him, still unsure of what had just happened. He smiled finally, after a long pause. "You are the most powerful witch alive."

            Gwen laughed and threw a pillow at him playfully. "That's impossible."

            "I'm serious." He said, throwing another pillow back at her.

            "Why would you say that?"

            "Because you make me feel safe. And only really good or really powerful wizards and witches can accomplish that feat."

            "Maybe I'm just really good." She said quietly, not wanting to admit to herself that she thought he was right. Her fey blood was what made her strong. Her talent was what made her powerful. Put together, she was unstoppable.

            He pulled her into an embrace and kissed her softly. Her head was swimming and she felt the bed rushing up to meet her. Harry and Gwen were falling gently into another trance.


	37. The Trance

Episode Thirty Seven

Part One

            The light was dim and it looked to Gwen as if they'd stumbled into the Faerie Mound.

            "Where are we?" Harry asked.

            "I dunno." Gwen replied. "I don't think this is really happening. I think this is just another trance."

            They held hands as they groped in the darkness, trying to make some sense of their surroundings. The ceiling of the room was short, the walls low and there were no windows to be found. The wane light seemed to transfuse the entire room; it didn't seem to have a source, it simply was. There was no door, no way out.

            "What is this?" Harry asked, laying his fingers gently on a dark slab of granite.

            "Don't touch it." Gwen said. She had the sneaking suspicion that they were visiting the unsellie court, and the table before them was for dining. The old legends said that if you ate fey food you could never again leave the mound. And if they were amongst the unsellie that would be a very bad thing.

            "You recognize this place?"

            "No, but my intuition never lies. But if this is just a trance then nothing should be able to…" She stifled her speech when a host of terrifying fey entered through the wall, cloaked in white home-spun robes. Their faces were dark, which Gwen was thankful for. They were too wild to look upon without feeling your knees go weak.

            Harry and Gwen shifted back towards the wall, but they found that the fey did not see them. This was indeed a trance and nothing they said or did could be heard or seen.

            The court circled around the table, blessing it with herbs and flowers, a bit of water from the lake and an interesting black sand Gwen had never seen before. The Stag King entered in his deep, dark cloak his head wrapped in ivy sprigs, accenting his tan horns. His hair fell in a black tangle around his shoulders and his face was dark, covered in a shadow that seemed to move wherever he moved.

            He was carrying in his arms the body of Gwen, not much older than she was now. She was pale and looked almost dead, as Harry had described her in his dream. The king laid her on the table and began to speak over her in a strange fey tongue long since dead.

            The real Gwen and Harry were squashed against the wall, hardly daring to breathe or move a muscle.

            Gwen on the table stirred softly and the king placed his hand over her eyes. She fell back into a deep slumber and the pain creasing her brow ceased. The king caressed her cheek, spoke once again in the same strange language and exited through the same wall he had entered. The little hooded fey took guard around her to stand watch.

            The dimness was beginning to dissolve.

Part Two

            Harry had never slept more soundly. It was as if the trance was merely a dream at the beginning of a night of deep sleep and he slumbered beautifully. Gwen lay curled under his arm; her feverish brain trying to work out the clues the fey had set for her.

            If this was a vision, a clue for her and she was finally using her powers to see… She was in grave danger. There was no denying it. Between Harry's dream and the vision of the fey, Gwen was going to end up nearly dead and if she wasn't careful maybe even really dead.

            She needed to seek out Gemma's council once again. Perhaps she would have a clue as to why the Stag King would concern himself with Gwen's well-being. When the sun rose she ventured downstairs to dress. She found herself sliding into McGonagall's office quietly, expecting to find it empty. "Aunt Minerva?" She said when she noticed the older woman sitting at her desk, already hard at work.

            McGonagall looked up sharply from her stack of parchments. School hadn't yet begun, but she was making notes and lesson plans for her own sanity. Once school began and she took on her duties as Deputy Headmistress it was impossible to sit and have a moment to herself.

            "Can I help you Guenivere?"

            "Yes. I need to see my great-great-grandmother again."

            McGonagall peered at her scrupulously. "For what reason?"

            "Well, it has something to do with Harry's dream and a vision I had. I know you don't believe in divination, but I'm telling you, I'm never wrong. I might be in danger and Gemma might be able to help me."

            "Very well." McGonagall said. She knew very well that her goddaughter was in danger. There was little else she could do to protect her with the exception of keeping her on grounds and keeping a sharp eye on her. "I will escort you to the forest."

            "Thank you, but I don't need…" She stopped short as she noticed the look McGonagall was sending her. "Of course. Is 11 o'clock ok?"

            "That will be fine. In the meantime I suggest you eat something; you look pale."

            Gwen smiled ruefully. Minerva did a fine impression of her mother.

Part Three

            The women bustled down to the forest shortly after 11. Gwen had filled her stomach with breakfast, trying her best to quell her godmother's sudden nervousness. She knew that Beorc had filled Minerva in on more than she would tell her own daughter. Whatever information she had it made the older woman jumpy and highly protective of her new charge. While Gwen wasn't bothered that her mother hadn't told her the whole truth (she never did anyway) she was really just longing to know what she was really up against. If she knew right from the get-go that the death eaters had put a price on her head at least she could prepare in advance.

            At the edge of the forest Minerva waved good bye. She knew Gwen to be capable enough to survive within the forest, she had a wand and somehow she felt that her great-great-grandmother might be protecting her whenever she entered.

            Gwen covered the forest terrain at an amazing speed. She knew exactly where she wanted to be. Within no time she was at the mound, stepping down and in the presence of her great-great-grandmother once again. This time she had company.

            A tall fey looking man with a bright smile and a short, chubby fey woman with dark hair stood next to Gemma deep in conversation. They hardly noticed that a child no older than 17 years had entered their presence. When they did turn to see her, Gwen bowed low as she felt she was in the presence of someone great.

            The couple bowed in return and exited through the back wall.

            "How do they do that?" Gwen asked.

            Gemma smiled. "That is a secret of the mound that you will learn when you join us."

            "I had a vision that needs some clarifying." Gwen said, the terror of the strange king touching her oddly close to the surface. All of her dreams were bubbling just under her skin, waiting for a good moment to spring upon her and torment her with strange memories.

            "Ah, the cloudy vision of the young. You look haunted."

            "I feel haunted. I think I visited the unsellie court."

            "The unsellie?" Gemma looked ruffled. "And what were you doing there?"

            "It was in the vision. I was almost dead but the Stag King revived me."

            "Oberon?"

            "Oberon, Cernaunos, The Fool, Stag King. Whatever you like to call him. He saved my life."

            There was a long moment when neither woman made a move to say anything.

            Finally Gemma spoke. "It is strange that the unsellie court would take an interest in you. I'll think on it and I will let you know if I discover anything. I'll find an owl to send to you so that you don't have to bungle around in the forest again. There is something unsafe in the air and I don't trust you to be out here, even in the daylight."

            Gwen nodded. "One more thing."

            "Of course."

            "What is my fey name?"

            "Agropyron Repens."

Gwen recoiled from the very sound of it. Gemma laughed at her reaction. "The king knew you would feel that way. He offered you two nicknames to choose from: Beauvois or Witchgrass."

"Beauvois is fine thank you." She said.

"Then Beauvois you shall be. But remember you must never reveal any of these names to anyone."

"Pinky swear." Gwen smiled, grasping her great-great-grandmother's pinky finger in her own and shaking hands.

She exited the woods with newfound peace of mind. While her vision still unsettled her she was comfortable with her new name. Beauvois, the Witchgrass. McGonagall raised her eyebrow in question, but decided not to ask as they headed back to the school together. The calm, serene appearance of Gwen's smile quieted all her worries for the time being.


	38. 3 Letters

Episode Thirty Eight

            Another school term had begun and students were bustling up and down the corridors once again. Gwen hadn't heard back from her great-great-grandmother, but the beginning of term was rather uneventful. For now. She knew it was only a matter of time before Harry found some new way to get them in trouble and/or Malfoy started up on his tirade.

            Gwen had sent her owl to Graves. It was perhaps the hardest thing she had to do so far in her life. She kept having to re-write it and the wastebasket in the common room was filled with scraps of torn parchment and Gwen's scribbling. She started over close to fifty times before she found the words to explain her heart.

            It had been several days since the delivery of that letter. Gwen was sitting at the Gryffindor table for breakfast, joined by Hermione and Harry. Ron had decided to have a bit of a lie in. The ceiling of the hall was a hazy grey-blue almost as if the sky couldn't make up its mind on what color it wanted to be today.

            Malfoy and his cohorts entered, sneering at the three of them. "Oh, it's so good to see the Potty back together with his girlfriends." He cackled.

            Gwen whirled around on him, catching him completely off guard. "Would you care to press your luck Malfoy? I kicked your ass once, barehanded. I can kick it again and I don't need to hide behind a wand."

            Malfoy scowled at her and walked quickly away as Professor Snape came bustling by. Even though he was head of Slytherin house he wouldn't allow out and out brawling on school grounds. Malfoy would just have to bide his time until he could get her alone again.

            More students appeared and shortly the hall was filled with laughter and students practicing the spells they hadn't performed since the end of last term. Breakfast was well under way when the owl post arrived, dropping packages carefully into students' laps.

            Three letters arrived for Gwen all in the beak of one very tired looking owl. She ripped open the envelope of the first to discover a note from Gemma.

            _"Dear Guenivere,_

_            I have not been able to contact the Stag King. I believe he is somewhere in Africa and somewhat occupied with a mound moving. I thought you'd be worried since I had not contacted you, but never fear, I will keep digging until I find something._

_            Love,_

_            Gemma."_

            She sighed. Gemma knew her well. She was beginning to worry. At least the fey were considerate. She sighed again and opened the second envelope. It contained a letter from Graves.

            _"Gwen,_

_            Thank you for being honest with me. It is rare in these days to meet someone who does not lie, as you well know. I will always hold that place for you open in my heart. Please, consider me a close friend to whom you can tell your deepest secrets, fears, joys and tears. Take care until we meet again._

_Yours,_

_            Graves."_

            Gwen took a moment to appreciate the value of Graves' words. A tiny smile crept onto her face. It had been difficult telling someone she still loved very much that their relationship was false. He had beautifully eased that burden of thought. She turned to the third envelope.

            Contained within was a small piece of parchment with a black dot in the center. There was no name, or any other visible writing. Where had she seen something like this before? And then she thought of her experience in the dream world.

            Harry was looking curiously at it. "What's that?"

"Ever read Robert Louis Stevenson?" She asked.

"No." He replied.

"I have." Hermione chimed in. "Isn't that a death summons, the black spot?"

"Yes." Gwen said puzzled. "Used by pirates to tell another pirate that they were going to kill him."

"That's odd."

"Who would send you a death summons?" Harry asked.

"Malfoy's not smart enough to have thought of this. I dunno. It's strange. After all the visions and dreams about me nearly dying that I should receive this." She crumpled the little bit of parchment in her fist. "Well, there's no use worrying about it. At least I'm prepared. Besides, Snape'll kill me if I don't finish his potions homework."


	39. The Escort

Episode Thirty Nine

            Since the appearance of the black spot Gwen had been doubly on her guard. There were no visits to the Forbidden Forest or midnight flying with Harry. She stayed on Hogwart's grounds at all times and applied herself to her studies. She was safe in the classroom and felt that was the best place to be.

            This didn't stop her and Harry from spending as much time as they could together. He felt extra protective of her and even went so far as to walk her to the door of the girl's dormitory for bed every night.

            "I'd invite you in for a drink Harry, but I think the girls would get mad." She joked.

            He gave her an admonishing look. "You know I'm doing this because I care."

            "I know." She said looking down shyly. She looped her fingers through his and smiled up at him sweetly. "Thank you." He kissed her forehead and opened the door for her. She stepped inside and he waited until the door closed completely before he moved to his own dorm.


	40. The Truth

Episode Forty

McGonagall asked Gwen to her office yet again. Gwen knew the interior of this room better than any in the castle. She'd spent much of her summer here chatting casually with her godmother. She knew the moment she stepped into the room.

"Hello mother." She said. Her mother was sitting on the edge of McGonagall's desk gazing at her daughter. Minerva had her arms wrapped tightly around herself, standing stoic in the corner.

"Hello Guenivere. How are you doing?"

"Well, considering all the death threats and scary visions I've been having, I'm actually pretty good."

"That's good to hear. But the death threat you received wasn't real."

"You sent the black dot?" Gwen said, deducting her mother's meaning.

Her mother smiled. "I needed you to be on your guard. You can act cavalier all you want but when you received that letter you started being more cautious."

"So what are you doing here?"

"I wanted to check in on you."

"You heard what Aunt Minerva said. It's dangerous for you to be here. And it's dangerous for me."

"There's something else I wanted to talk about with you." Her mother said.

Gwen rolled her eyes. "What is it with you?"

"What do you mean dear?"

"I mean that every time you come here you tell me a little more of the truth. Why all the lies? Why can't you just come out with it and tell me everything you know about what happened seven years ago?"

Minerva stirred in her corner. She wanted to restrain Gwen for fear of what she might do, but she remained where she was keeping a close eye on both women.

"I know the death eaters were after me. We've discussed this before. I want to know why."

"And I told you, I don't know why."

"But you knew they were coming?" Gwen asked.

"How could I not?"

"What about dad?"

"What about your father?"

"Did he know? Did you bother to tell him that they were going to kill me?" Gwen suddenly became livid as a bizarre image came into her mind. Her mother laughing as he father lay dying. "You knew. You knew that they were after me and you hid me with Aunt Ann and you used dad as a decoy. How could you? How could you?"

Beorc looked on coolly. She couldn't reply to her daughter's accusations. It hadn't quite sunk in yet what she was really saying.

"How could you?" She whispered.

The ceiling had just caved in on Gwen's world. She felt her body give way beneath her and her head slumped over on her chest into a deep unconscious. She had fainted, but had not fallen back. Instead her body remained standing, floating two inches above the ground.

When the haze finally lifted Gwen knew she was in the hospital wing. Minerva was at her side, holding her hand and Madame Pomfrey was swarming around tending to other students with injuries. Apparently some students had been fooling around in potions and the result was that the hospital wing was almost full of students with boils and burns all over their skin.

"Aunt Minerva." Gwen said weakly, in her hazy state forgetting her promise to never call her that in front of others. "Could I have a glass of water?"

"Of course dear." She replied, dismissing the slip all together.

When she returned with the water Gwen was sitting up in bed, fully conscious and hungry for answers.

"Did she leave?"

Minerva looked at the girl calmly. "I thought it best that she did and sent her on her way."

"I was almost hoping after she went into hiding that she would never come back."

"She worries about you a lot. You remind her of herself sometimes. Mischief making and all. But she was never in danger of being hunted down by death eaters. Not as you are."

"Why would they want me?"

"Only they know the answer, and it's not likely that we can find out without getting ourselves in more trouble than the answer is worth."

"Did she really use my dad as a pawn to protect me?"

"Your father went into this knowing full well what would happen to him." McGonagall stated. "I know your mother has lied to you time after time, but she did not send your father knowingly into death."

"How do you know?" Gwen asked, desperate to understand.

"Your father was close to me as well. He owled me shortly before they left and let me in on some of the details. I knew where you were and what was going on so that if something should happen I could care for you. Your father was a very brave man and you were his world. He was happy to give his life to save yours."

"He knew he might be killed?"

"He knew all along."

Gwen felt the sob rising slowly, the salt stinging at her eyes.

"Go ahead and cry dear, let it all out." Said Minerva, patting her hand gently.


	41. What Was She Going To Do?

Episode Forty One

            Gwen spent the rest of the afternoon resting quietly in bed with her thoughts.

            She'd said some pretty horrible things to her mother before, but none so terrible as assigning the blame for her father's death. Beorc had left and Gwen would probably never get to apologize for flying off the handle like that.

            She sighed. There was nothing to be done but get back to work. Though if she concentrated on her schooling anymore she'd soon be beating out Hermione's high scores, a prospect she looked on fearfully. Hermione took it as a personal affront for anyone to trample on her test scores. Gwen laughed and thought she would much rather remain on her good side than get top marks.

            Something else was bothering Gwen. She hadn't thought of it before since she'd always been dealing with some other melodrama, but now it was looming on the horizon and if she didn't start thinking she'd be out of options when the time came.

            It was her seventh year at Hogwarts and after this what was she going to do?


	42. Ouranian Barbaric

Episode Forty Two

Harry and Gwen were sitting out by the pond, relaxing before the weather finally turned cold. It was heading in that direction and the entire student body seemed to be thinking the same thing. Enjoy it now, while it lasts.

The sun was beginning to set and the wind grew suddenly colder. Many of the students rushed back to the castle, fearful of the sudden storm clouds that appeared out of the southern sky. Gwen snuggled deeper into her robes, but Harry stood, as if he were looking for something.

He looked at Gwen. Something was wrong. His stomach was doing little flip-flops and a pressure was building in his head. "Ah." He exclaimed, placing his hand over his scar. It was burning, in flames. His stomach had tightened instantly into a painful ball.

"It hurts again?" Gwen asked instantly concerned.

"Yes. Ah." He fell to his knees.

"Anokquz." Gwen said.

"What?" He asked hazy.

            "It means to banish with laughter. Just repeat it until you giggle and then laugh away all the bad feelings. I don't know, maybe it will help. It always worked in the dream world when Graves or I was sad."

            "That sounds kind of ridiculous." He grunted.

            "Well, that's chaos magic for you. Do you trust me?"

            "Yeah." He said softly. "Anokquz. Anokquz. Anokquz." Within a few moments the chanting was working and Harry couldn't help but break down into the giggles. The pain in his forehead was beginning to subside and his stomach was less constricted. With the bad feeling slipping out of his body he turned to her with renewed concentration. "What now?"

"Aguikua." She said. "Believe."

            He looked at her sideways, not certain he was understanding just what was happening. He held her hand as she began a low quiet chant in a language he had no understanding of.

"Nay ngyaf cho Harry. G'nath xechov cho Gwen. Yemenomen kafesar zafaqir bicow fouija cugothsa etheng. Repix cho hev fey."

"What did you say?"

"Not now Harry. We must concentrate in order for the spell to work."

She repeated the words again and again adding the occasional aguikua for Harry's benefit. He was feeling a change, but he couldn't pin down exactly what was changing. Her voice was fading gradually and soon the constant stream of words was only a whisper and as it caught on the breeze her voice died all together.

He looked at her a long moment before speaking. "What was that?"

She looked at him, drained but oddly refreshed. "Ouranian Barbaric."

"What?"

"It's a magical language. Maybe it's just made up in my head, because it was a part of the dream world. Graves and I would chant for hours on end and it never failed us. I thought, maybe it would work here as well."

"It did something." Harry said. "I feel different, better."

"Good." She said with a soft smile.

"So, what did you say?"

"Something along the lines of make Harry feel better, make Gwen less crazy and let us just be happy."

"Really?"

"Sort of."

"Let's get back up to the castle." He said wrapping his arm around her waist. She never stopped amazing him.


	43. The Ministry of Magic and You

Episode Forty Three

Sitting at the Gryffindor table for breakfast, everyone was surprised to see that Hermione wasn't face down in a book. This morning she was being read to and she could hardly suppress the giggles as Gwen read aloud from a brochure Professor McGonagall had passed out to all of the seventh years.

"The Ministry of Magic and you. Do you think you might have a real future in magic? It all begins here in our state of the art facilities located in a secret underground, miles below London. You could be speaking eighteen different languages as an ambassador to other ministry installations around the world. You could be arranging sporting events like the Quidditch World Cup with the department of Magical Games. You could be seeking to better the relations of witches, wizards and muggles all across the globe with our Department for Muggle Relations."

"You could be writing boring, eighty foot long parchments on the thickness of cauldron bottoms." Chimed in Ron. Everyone sitting within ear-shot broke into gales of laughter. Many of them had heard of Percy's anal retentive attention to detail in his reports for the Ministry of Magic.

Gwen laughed as well. She didn't think the MoM was quite what she was looking for. She was certain Harry would go on to play Quidditch professionally if he didn't become an Auror. She felt that Ron might go into business with Fred and George, whose Weasley's Wizard Wheezes joke shop was a great success. She was certain Hermione would follow proudly in Percy's anal footsteps.

Gwen however, had no clearly defined goals.

She thought about going back to the "real world," which was very much like her dream world and trying to get into the theatre again. She could act, or do tech work backstage. She hadn't forgotten any of the things she had learned during the dream and she knew that they were close to the real thing. Then she thought, maybe she could just run away to the mound and live out the rest of her life with Gemma and the other fey.

But Harry. She wanted to be close to Harry. If she went back out into the "real world" she might never see Harry again. And if she returned to the mound to live that _might never would turn into a _definitely never_._

"What do you think I should do?" She asked him quietly in between bites of sausage.

"Do what?" Harry asked.

"Do for a career after Hogwarts."

"I think you should stay here and hang out with me, help me study."

She smiled. It was a nice thought, but she didn't think it possible. Unless… Of course, she could become a teacher of magic. Maybe she could take an assistant teaching position at Hogwarts and then take on a full position when some older staff member retired. Hell, maybe she could teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. Snape was the only one who was keen to take the position as it was always being vacated, but Dumbledore never allowed him to step up to the plate. Maybe he would let Gwen.

Harry gazed at her, watching her eyes glass over with that day dreamy look they sometimes did. Her head tilted ever so slightly to the right and a little smile was playing on her lips. If Harry didn't know her better he might have thought she was having a petite seizure, the kind where you zone out. But he'd spent enough time with her to know that the gears were cranking in her head and that something he'd said had set them to work.


	44. A Great Challenge

Episode Forty Four

Part One

The lawn was dark as the clouds had just rolled over the moon. The wind had a cold chill to it, an icy thrust from the north. The weather was turning to freezing rain and muddy Quidditch fields.

One tiny light sparkled out of the window of the girl's dormitory, a single candle held by a girl staring out on the grounds. She had her legs close to her chest, her arms wrapped around them, one hand holding the light blue candle steady.

The other girls lay in their bunks, sleeping soundly as they were wont to do. But this one girl could not sleep. And when she could not sleep she often gazed out of windows, looking down below her for no particular reason. She wasn't really looking for anything; she was simply looking at the beauty of nature.

In a distant dream where she had lived an entire lifetime separate from this one she once saw faeries as she gazed out of a window on a sleepless night. She had been no older than seven years and they had terrified her. They were dark and small with white hooded cloaks, carrying candles and walked double file down the street where she never really lived.

That had been her first encounter with the unsellie court, except that she didn't know that's what they were. It was November 11, Hollantide, the day that the fey move from one mound into another. She had witnessed a mound moving at only seven years old, something most people never see in their entire lifetime and though it had only been part of a dream she really had seen it.

She sighed deeply, pulling the night air into her lungs. She had seen a cloak swishing in the darkness below and knew that someone was stealing away from the castle. Who it was she could not be certain, nor did she understand that this person would have a hand in her future.

She looked to her bed, blew out her candle and crawled under the covers.

Part Two

            Gwen stretched languidly as she woke in the early morning. She yawned loudly and one of the other girls in the dorm snorted with laughter. "Great way to start the day Gwen."

            "Thanks Kiersten." She sighed.

            "You were up pretty late last night, huh?"

            "I didn't keep you up, did I?" She asked the taller girl.

            Kiersten smiled as she threw her long black hair off her shoulder. "No, I'm actually pretty used to your odd sleeping habits. Something on your mind keeping you up? Or is it someone?"

            "A little of both."

            "It wouldn't happen to be the smashing Harry Potter, would it?"

            Gwen blushed and lowered her head, trying to hide the huge smile spreading on her face. She hadn't really told anyone outright about her involvement with the Gryffindor seeker, but everyone seemed to know anyway. It was becoming a habit of the dorm to follow the development of their relationship. There was even a betting pool as to how long it would last before one or both of them found a way to get themselves killed.

            Gwen didn't really think it was that funny, but she played along because she was just that type of person. She tolerated something until it became so noticeable it was about to blow up in your face. And even then sometimes she wouldn't deal with it.

            Kiersten patted her on the shoulder. "You don't have to tell me anything. I just think it's great that you finally found someone like you."

Part Three

            The cloaked figure crossing the grounds was never far from Gwen's mind as she went about her daily tasks. Classes were almost too easy and she was beginning to get bored. Magic was something that came so naturally to her and she hardly needed to study. She had already read all of the assigned seventh year books.

            Hermione was quite disgusted with Gwen's natural ability, but she had to chalk it up to her; the girl was talented. McGonagall in particular had noticed that glazed look coming back into Gwen's eyes on a regular basis again, but she couldn't complain because the girl was still receiving full marks. She had the concern of a guardian however and decided to speak to her about it.

            "Guenivere, may I see you in my office?"

            Gwen's heart leapt in her chest. McGonagall only ever called her to her office if she'd done something wrong or if her mother was on the premises. She had done nothing wrong to her knowledge so that left only her mother. "Sure." She said quietly and followed her godmother with her eyes held firmly on the ground.

            When the door clicked behind her she quickly surveyed the room. No mother in sight. Maybe she had done something wrong. She thought hard on the past couple of days. Unless staying up late in your own dorm was a punishable offense she'd done nothing at all to gain her godmother's contempt.

            But there was no contempt, only concern. "Guenivere, I've noticed that you're very bored in my classes."

            "Not just your classes." Gwen said, creasing her brows in thought. What was this all about?

            "Excuse me?"

            "Well, I've learned all the seventh year magic and it's just coming really easily to me now. It hardly seems worth it to sit through class." She was shocked at her own honesty.

            "That's a bit egotistical don't you think, Guenivere?"

            "Yeah, but it's the truth."

            Minerva regarded her coolly. While the girl was speaking the truth of which she had no doubt she still felt it was a rude way of saying so. Sometimes Gwen reminded her sharply of a Slytherin student who would later become the girl's mother.

            "What is it?" Gwen asked at the less than pleased look on McGonagall's face.

            "You reminded me very much of your mother just then. You don't do it often, but when you do it's terrifyingly accurate."

            Gwen huffed just a bit, but realized exactly what her godmother meant. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude. It's just that I'm so ready to…" But she didn't know what she was ready for. Was it that she wanted to move on or was it more that she wanted something to challenge her?

            McGonagall looked ruffled to say the least but she relaxed enough to force a smile. "Would you like to study some more advanced magic after hours?"

            "Actually." Gwen thought wildly for a moment. Maybe she could tell her of the teaching idea. She took a deep breath. "I want to study more Defense Against the Dark Arts. I have a feeling the position may be vacated soon and I'd like to teach it someday. Here, at Hogwarts."

            Minerva looked at her astonished. There was no doubt in her mind that Gwen would be destined for great things. But she had never ever thought that Gwen would pursue a career in teaching the magical arts. "Of course." She said. "There's only so much I can teach you, but perhaps Professor Dumbledore could help you."

Part Four

            Gwen was not really pleased at the prospect of working so closely with Professor Dumbledore. She was to meet with him every day after classes and work until supper time on her defense skills. She thought Dumbledore was a little weird and he made her really nervous.

            _But, she thought, __this is just the challenge you were looking for. And Harry respects him greatly. That has to stand for something. He is the greatest wizard ever._

            Gwen had the potential to become the greatest witch and under Dumbledore's watchful eye there was no doubt that she would go on to do great things.

            Her first meeting with him was to be in his office and she waited by the statue McGonagall had told her of until Dumbledore joined her. He nodded and whispered "Canary Cream." The statue leapt to the side and Dumbledore ushered her onto a rotating staircase. She looked around in amazement at the smooth gliding motion of the stairs in their upward spiral.

            They stepped off when they had reached the top and Dumbledore ushered her into a chair. "Minerva tells me that you have an interest in Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

            "Yes sir. I'd like to teach it here someday if I might."

            "As you know the position is not the most long term."

            "I think I might be able to change that." Gwen said with a bright grin.

            Dumbledore nodded. Minerva was right. This girl was a delightful handful.

A silence followed that made Gwen very uncomfortable, yet Dumbledore seemed much more at ease in the quiet. She waited for him to say something and though it took a long time she was glad she did.

            "Well, if you want the job we must begin your training post haste."

            Gwen sat up again that night, gazing out of her dormitory window at the grounds thinking about all of the things Dumbledore had taught her that day. They had not moved into the practical application yet, nor would they she was aware for quite some time. There was a lot of theory behind the skills needed to defend oneself and to teach it one needed a full understanding of the field. Dumbledore wanted to train his soon to be Defense Against the Dark Arts professor well.

            A movement caught her eye and she followed it down with her head. Something was crossing the grounds but it was too dark to tell what it was. If only the wind would push the clouds away from the moon, Gwen thought. As if the wind had heard her thoughts the clouds swiftly moved out of the way.

            The cloaked figure was back, but this time it was sneaking into the castle.


	45. The Cloaked Figure

Episode Forty Five

Part One

            Gwen peered avidly into the dark. She couldn't see around the damn hood of the cloak. While she was great at gazing right through magical disguises she couldn't see through fabric itself. She frowned sharply, the glass she pushed her forehead against was cold.

            There was only one way to find out who the dark figure was. While it was risky, the curious side of Gwen was biting too hard. She couldn't ignore it any longer. She got up, threw her cloak over her pajamas and sneaked quickly and quietly from the Gryffindor dormitory. She rushed down the stairs, fortunate in her flight that Filch was no where to be found.

            She slowed immediately as she came close to the main hall. Whoever had been on the lawn was now prowling around outside of the Great Hall seemingly searching for something. In her rush she had forgotten her wand, but as she reached in her pocket she realized she had never taken it out of her cloak.

            She pulled it out carefully, prepared to defend herself if this marauder proved to be a problem. She stepped down from the last stair and slunk along the wall opposite the invader. She held her breath as best she could and concentrated very hard on being invisible.

            Whoever it was sensed a presence. The hooded figure turned around and she caught her gasp before it escaped her lips. With one hand covering her mouth and the other clutching her wand she stepped out from the wall and let herself be seen.

            "Gwen?" The figured asked in a confused whisper.   
            "Graves?" She replied in question. 

Part Two

"What in the hell are you doing here?" Gwen asked.

"I came back for you." Graves replied.

"Why?"

"You're in grave danger."

"I know that. But…" She couldn't think of something to say. She just gazed at him in disbelief. "This isn't your first visit is it?"

"No. I didn't think anyone would catch me though."

"You scared the shit out of me. I thought you were some… I don't know what I thought you were, but I thought it couldn't be good if someone was sneaking in and out of Hogwarts."

"I've been searching the grounds at night, looking for any other intruders. Things aren't going so well out there Gwen. Voldemort is gaining power again and his supporters are coming back pretty strong. They wanted you dead once and they'll want you dead again. If you're anything half so strong as I think you are, they'll want you dead sooner than later."

She looked at him. "If I'm that strong, then they can't kill me."

"That's a nice thought Gwen, but a little naïve. Voldemort's killed some of the brightest and the best."

A noise from above made them both jump. "You should go." She said quickly.

"What about you?"

"I'm fine. I have this new super power I'll have to show you sometime. Owl me when you get back to wherever it is that you're staying ok?"

"Ok." He said, rushing out of the front doors.

Gwen pushed herself back against the wall and concentrated on invisibility once again. Filch passed her without so much as a side glance and when he had disappeared again she ran as fast as she could back to Gryffindor Tower. When she pushed her nose against the glass of her favorite window safe and warm in her dorm room she saw a cloaked figure stepping into the Forbidden Forest and disappearing as well.


	46. Her Hero

Episode Forty Six

            Gwen waited patiently for her owl and when it did not arrive within the next week she became anxious. She hoped that Graves knew his way around the forest as well as she did. His return had caused a fluctuation of confused emotions for her.

            He came out of nowhere, making her heart ache again with the sweet confusion she'd felt when he was still a student. Removed, he was no threat to Harry. In person, he was very close to winning her over again.

            Harry was no fool. He knew that once again Gwen was riding a tidal wave of feelings she couldn't explain. He sometimes thought to himself that she might be bipolar, but that thought seemed a bit melodramatic. It was just that Gwen had one of those lives that was more like a soap opera than anything else.

            He had not lied to her when he said he would be patient. He was the shining example of composure, waiting on her temperamental behavior, forgiving her when she was snippy, cheering her when she was down. He was the perfect boyfriend. He never demanded more than she could give, always gave more than she needed. He was her hero.

            She was thinking just that as a tiny grey owl swooped down to her, dropping a note in her lap.

            "_Gwen,_

_            I arrived safely. Please keep a watchful eye over your shoulder. There is a whisper about an attack, but when or where has not yet been disclosed. I cannot say more than that._

_In light and dark,_

_Corwin Graves_"

            Harry was reading over her shoulder, and though she was mildly annoyed at the intrusion she didn't say so. She folded up the letter, pushed it into her Arithmancy book and did not think on it again until that evening in the privacy of her curtained four poster bed. She read the letter again by the light of her candle, careful not to drip wax on the deliberately penned words.

            "Oh Graves." She whispered in disquiet.


	47. The Descent of the Death Eaters

Episode Forty Seven

Part One

            Gwen's lessons were going very well. She was such a quick study; Dumbledore felt more than confidant that she would make an excellent professor. He offered her an assistant teaching position for after her graduation from Hogwarts and as soon as the position was empty she would step up to the plate.

            She was finally settling back into the sway of ordinary life at Hogwarts, forgetting about Graves altogether, returning to her playful nature with Harry.

            Then one morning as she woke she felt a stab of pain cross her chest. It was brief, lightning sharp and gone as soon as it had come. She wasn't sure why, but she knew that something terrible had happened.

            She was relieved to see everyone at the breakfast table alive and in good cheer (as good cheer as one can be in on a Monday morning). Something was nagging her in the back of her head however, someone she'd forgotten to think about. It wasn't Graves, she'd already thought about that possibility and just as quickly dismissed it. This was someone she hadn't thought on in quite some time.

            She looked up to the head table and found McGonagall's place empty. Could it be her? No, Gwen sighed. It wasn't her. She went about her day as if nothing had happened, screwing up her face every now and then as she scrolled through a list of names in her head. She didn't mention it to anyone, but nothing seemed to be making sense in her head. It was on the tip of her tongue. How come she couldn't remember?

            Minerva called her to her office at the end of Transfiguration. She seemed strained, but wouldn't say more about it until she had Gwen in private. She closed the door behind them and offered Gwen a chair. The girl looked at her with more fear than she'd ever known. She would not sit, she simply shook her head trying to understand.

            Minerva opened her mouth to speak several times, but her voice seemed to stop working. She sighed, took a seat herself and looked deeply into the young woman's eyes.

"Guenivere, your mother…" Her face fell and she could not finish.

            Gwen felt the ceiling drop once again. She didn't understand the power of her own prophecies. She had once thought that she would never be able to apologize to her mother about the terrible things she had said. She didn't realize that she would be right in thinking so.

            She fell weightless into a chair and wept freely. Without needing her to say so, she understood. Her mother was dead.

Part Two

            "How did this happen?" She asked quietly as the tears began to subside.

            "She was found dead this morning. The authorities believe it was an attack by a group of death eaters."

            Gwen felt incredibly cold. It wasn't quite a numbness, it was more an intense ache, like the kind when your limbs fall asleep and it's too painful to move. She stared listlessly at the wall for a long time before speaking again.

            "Where will she be buried?"

            "The plot where your father is, in France. He wanted to be buried with his ancestors and your mother agreed to be buried there as well. It's all in her living will."

            She nodded softly, but she hadn't really heard anything. She was screaming at herself inside for never apologizing. She stared at her fingernails as if they held some universal truth, her brow furrowed. She would never understand why people had to die and grieving while she was well accustomed to it was not her forte.

            She had been taking to the common room more often than not. She needed the company. She kept up her studies, continued her visits with Dumbledore, but there was a hole now where her heart had been and everyone noticed the deep grieving that she had fallen into. There was to be a Hogsmeade trip that weekend and Harry thought it might be good to get her out of the castle. He took Gwen's hand gently in his own. "We should go."

            She listened to the happy chattering going on about her and her own breathing, deep, slow, rhythmic. "We should." She affirmed.

            Minerva had her concerns. "I don't know if that's a good idea." She said when Gwen told her she would be going.

            "Aunt Minerva, I can't just sit around here and be sad anymore. I need to get out."

            She finally agreed and the trip was on.

            The students filed through the main hall, ushered into the carriages by a less than friendly grunt from Filch. Usually they would just walk down to the village, but it was a muddy, wet day and the carriages were there for their convenience. Before long they were stepping down from their slightly moldy conveyance and into the magical town. Gwen, Harry, Hermione, and Ron descended on Honeydukes and loaded their pockets with sweets.

            They visited the Three Broomsticks to warm up with a bit of butterbeer. Harry was glad to see that Gwen looked almost cheerful and that she smiled for the first time in days. After that they visited the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes which was doing quite well considering that it was located right next to Zonko's Joke Shop.

            The Weasley twins had been excellent business men however. They were perfectly gentlemanly and worked in conjunction with Zonko's, offering products that the other could not and advertising for the other store when they didn't have something in stock. The students were especially fond of the ton-tongue toffees and canary creams. They were the highest selling products at the shop.

            Ron joked about with his brothers as Harry and Hermione gazed in amazement at a giant contraption stashed in the corner. "What does this do?" Hermione asked.

            "Ah, that's the catapult." Fred said.

            "We're still working on it." George added.

            "We're looking to reduce the size."

            "And increase the power."

            "Before long, every wizard in the world will own one."

            "What for?" Harry asked.

            "Essentially it's for gnome tossing, to clean out the garden. It's not really a joke." George answered

            "Mum would be proud." Fred laughed. "Our first practical product."

Gwen was gazing out the window and jumped back into Fred as a wizard flew past the window. There was a giant commotion out in the street and all six of them rushed to press against the window to see what it was.

The death eaters had descended on Hogsmeade and were making a regular festival out of the havoc they were causing. They had sent bodies tossing left and right, stormy winds before them and the stink of death behind. They hadn't killed anyone yet, but they had several students cornered.

All Gwen could think was: "How dare they?" She ran out of the shop and jumped into their midst her wand out before she really thought about it. She sent "stupefy" and "expelliarmus" all around her, breaking down their main circle and causing much confusion in their order.

What she had done was extremely brave and very helpful to the people trying to contain the death eaters, but she had left herself nearly defenseless.

She heard someone shouting "Crucio." Her knees buckled, legs fell out from underneath her. She was doubled over in the murk from the most excruciating pain she had ever felt. Her eyes were blinded by white hot flashes of agony; the noise had become deafening.

Just as suddenly as it had come upon her it had stopped. She felt nauseous and dizzy, unable to stand. She lay on her side, soaked by the still pouring rain, staring through the legs of several people. She saw Harry standing his wand out as well. She reached out for him but realized that her hand was empty.

Her wand lay three feet away from her, shattered into thousands of tiny fragments. She focused on it, it seemed to be the only thing that wasn't moving and therefore eased some of her dizziness. But another wave of pain was crashing down upon her as another death eater performed the Cruciatus curse.

They were cruel and merciless, more death eaters joining in on the torture of the foolish little girl who had tried to tackle them. She heard a cacophony of shrieks, laughter and "Crucios." The shrieks she realized were coming from her own mouth, a most unearthly sound and she no longer had control of her body.

Once again the pain stopped instantly, but this time it was different. Every sense, every thing had faded into a dim, dull grey. She found that she could not move, but she was not frightened. She was breathing, which meant she was still alive.


	48. In the Presence of the King

Episode Forty Eight

The light was becoming a little brighter, a little easier to bear. There was a soft gurgling sound as of water giggling over pebbles in a stream. The room was cool, a little damp but tolerable compared to the saturated cold of outside. She found she could move a very little, but she felt almost as if her limbs were in a thick peanut butter. She was sludgy and slow in her movements but she tilted her head around patiently to get a better view of her surroundings.

The Stag King had entered through the back wall and she moved her head back so that she was staring at the ceiling. He had watched her avidly for many days, fearful of her condition. Any mortal would have perished had so many wands been turned on them in malice. But this girl had somehow survived. Her will to live was stronger than any he'd seen and he knew that she had fey blood running in her veins.

            He spoke the soft words over her again and again and noticed that she was gazing up softly into his shadowy face. He could not let her see his true face. It would terrify her, surely. He was so old, so wild. Older than human time and yet younger than the baby born yesterday. That was his own magic, his ability to defy time and age all together.

            But while she was in his care he was careful to hide his appearance from her, keeping up his guarded shadows. He had given this girl a name not long ago. He gave names to all the fey, even the highly rare half bloods. This girl's line had been a strong one. Her ancestors had given much more of their faerie blood to their children than anyone suspected. Guenivere LeFey was the result and she took the king's breath away.


	49. Too Long

Episode Forty Nine

Part One

Harry had stopped speaking. Since Gwen's disappearance the entire school had grown quiet. Even Malfoy refused to comment on the situation. No one had seen where the girl had disappeared to in the midst of the death eaters. Some of them had escaped and it was believed that they had taken Gwen with them.

            Weeks passed and it was nearing time for Christmas break. People were packing to head home, but Ron had promised to stay with Harry. He didn't think it safe to leave his best-friend alone in such a state. The last day before the holidays had arrived and while people felt excited they were saddened by the loss of a fellow student.

            Harry was the last to stagger out of the great hall. He dragged his feet across the main hall and was about to start on the stairs when something inside told him to turn around. When he did his heart nearly leapt into his throat.

            "Hi Harry." Gwen said shyly.

            He looked at her and all the high strung emotions he had been holding inside snapped. His eyes washed with the tears he had held back every night lying in his bed. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to his chest. If he had his way he never would have let her go.

            She held him tightly to her. She had no concept of the time she had spent in the mound with the Stag King, but as soon as she saw Harry she knew it had been too long.

Part Two

            Everyone had noticed the change in Gwen. She looked older in a way they couldn't explain and yet younger at the same time. The Stag King had given her some kind of magic and even she couldn't describe it. She felt different, more powerful and yet much less likely to use it.

            Her memory of the time with him was hazy, fogged and dreamlike. She could only recall his deep voice chanting softly over her and the feeling of solace penetrating every fiber of her being. She would often gaze off into the distance with a tiny smile on her face and no one had any doubt what she was smiling about.

            She used the holiday to catch up on any missed school work and had double Defense Against the Dark Arts tutoring sessions with Dumbledore. She didn't have much chance to spend time with Harry or Ron or her godmother for that matter. She felt the distance, but there was nothing to be done.

            Besides, something had changed and the solitude didn't bother her anymore.


	50. The Safest Place

Episode Fifty

Part One

            The holidays ended without incident, something Gwen was highly relieved about. She was still grieving for her mother, and asked Minerva if they might not take a little vacation to see her burial in France. Of course, this was simply out of the question.

            The death eaters had made an open attack on Hogsmeade and the atmosphere had decidedly shifted to one of mistrust and fear.

            Gwen refused to see the practicality of her godmother and now official guardian. Which raised an interesting question in her mind. Why weren't her Aunt Ann and Uncle George made her custodians? Did her mother hold something against them? She had trusted them with her life once. To tell the truth, she wasn't even sure if they were still alive. Neither her nor her mother had received any news from them in years.

            Maybe, she guessed it was because Hogwarts was the safest place to be in the world. While Aunt Ann was a capable witch and Gwen herself had proved resilient, it didn't hurt to have that extra layer of protection only Hogwarts could offer.

Part Two

            Gwen needed a new wand. She had long ago been taught to apparate by Dumbledore, a practical method of escape and surprise for a DADA teacher. He had worked it out with the ministry so that she could take the test, even though she was just shy of being the legal age. She had passed her test flying colors months ago and decided she would walk to the edge of Hogwart's grounds with her godmother in tow and apparate to Diagon Alley.

            They chose the first evening after everyone had arrived back from their vacation and were not present at the returning feast. They spent the evening trying on new wands for Gwen (who ended up with a unicorn hair, mahogany, 8 inches), a new robe for Minerva and quite a few drinks for both at the Leaky Cauldron.

            It had been a while since Minerva had let her hair down, literally and Gwen thought it made her severe features appear much softer in the dim light of the bar. It felt strange to be drinking with her professor but then again her dream life had prepared her for this. The theatre department she had worked in was a very open one and the professors often came to student's parties to drink and get down.

            The two women talked about Beorc and Gwen laughed at the thought of her mother as a first year Slytherin giving McGonagall guff the very first day of classes.

            "Oh she was a handful. And your father, what a handsome boy."

            Gwen nearly fell off her stool to see McGonagall blush.

            "Well," she rushed to explain. "I was still a very new teacher just then. I had barely just graduated from Hogwarts myself when I decided I wanted to teach transfiguration. I'm not as old as you think."

            The younger woman smiled. "Of course not, Aunt Minerva. Why didn't you ever marry?" She asked suddenly. The thought had crossed her mind before, but she'd never had the opportunity to ask.

            "I was married." She stated. "Briefly."

            "To whom?" Gwen asked fascinated.

            "To a muggle man. He didn't know I was a witch until after we were married and it was far too much for him to handle. We annulled the marriage immediately."

            "Does that make you sad?" She ventured.

            "No, it was long ago and I only regret that I had not told him sooner."

            "Why didn't you marry again?"

            "I don't know. I suppose I had no desire to after John left."  
            "John."

            "Sometimes I wonder what he's up to now. I let him go, no hard feelings, but he never spoke to me again. Some people just can't understand what it's like to be different." She took a sip of her drink. "But you do, Gwen, don't you?"

            Gwen laughed. "I do indeed."

            "So, do you think you'll marry?" Minerva said, turning the tables on her charge.

            "I dunno. I'm pretty young still. Besides, boys just confuse me and I think I'd end up outliving all of them."

            "What would make you say that?"

            "Well, most of my family seems to die at the opposite end of a wand. None of them have keeled over because of old age and Gemma's hell, Gemma's my great-great-grandmother and she looks like she's in her thirties."

            "I never even thought about it like that. You probably have some longevity if you can avoid being…"

            "Killed. It's ok. You can say it. I'm not scared anymore, just annoyed."

            Minerva looked at her with a mixture of admiration and disbelief spread over her face.


	51. A Rare Day

Episode Fifty One

            One sunshiny afternoon Gwen wandered into Minerva's office. The older woman was writing on a piece of plain white paper and using a ball point pen. Gwen nearly laughed out loud to see it. She didn't think anyone used pens here (and although she preferred them, it was just as easy to use quills and ink). She wondered where her godmother had gotten the paper. Parchment was much more common and rarely did anyone use plain paper, ink tended to blot easier on the thin fibers.

            "What is this?" She finally asked, trying to garner some attention.

            "Our conversation got me thinking Guenivere. It's been some time since I tried to speak to John and I felt that maybe after all these years he wonders what I'm up to as much as I wonder about him." She gave herself a moment and a private smile formed on her lips. "Besides, it can't hurt to try."

            Gwen beamed at her. "Bravo. Good for you."

            Minerva blushed. It was a rare day indeed, Gwen thought.


	52. Christ on a Cross

Episode Fifty Two

            With special permission Graves had been allowed to visit the castle on weekends. Since the attack and Gwen's return he'd been especially anxious to keep tabs on her. Gwen half suspected that Dumbledore knew about his late night "searches" but didn't comment. She had the feeling he might be hiring him for a security type job anyway.

            The two friends were sitting in the Great Hall at the end of Gryffindor table where they had sat almost a year before, talking quietly and excitedly about the things they had in common and the things they did not.

"Oh Christ on a cross." He exclaimed.

Gwen recoiled. "What?"

"This sucks." He said pointing to an article he'd been reading in the Daily Prophet about a Quidditch team he had placed a bet on. They had lost, contrary to the confident advice of the bookie that they would win. Graves was now 250 galleons in the hole.

"No, the Christ part. Where did that come from?"

"I dunno. You know, sometimes I feel like I've lived in another dimension." He said while folding the paper and setting it on the table. "It's like I have this whole other existence in my memory that's completely impossible and the craziest things pop out of my mouth sometimes. Like Christ on a cross."

"Did I ever explain my whole dream life to you?" Gwen asked.

"And this has what to do with Christ?"

"This has a lot to do with Christ actually. I lived in this dream world that my mother made for me after my father died. And she borrowed you to make a doppelganger, although I'm not really sure how that whole part worked. Mom was kind of… mysteriously magically advanced we'll say. In any case you were in this other existence and we were best friends in college. We both grew up roman catholic in the dream, so the Christ on a cross would be something you'd say. You were kind of offensive like that. Sort of abrasive, like sandpaper actually."

He looked at her wide eyed. He didn't know whether or not to believe her. Gwen wasn't the type to lie, but this story was just so far-fetched. "Are you shitting me?"

"I shit you not." She said. "I know, it seems insane, but it's the truth."

He frowned. It made sense in a crazy kind of way. Maybe that's where all those random memories came from. He shrugged. "Ok." He conceded. "Did we ever make out in the dream world?"

"All the time." She said dramatically.

He laughed. "You tease me as much there as you do here?"

"Only on days ending with Y."

"I see." He sighed, looking up at the bewitched ceiling. He felt like his heart was bursting, half joy, half fear. He was so glad to be back near Gwen and yet so fearful it wouldn't last. He was more than angry with himself that he hadn't been there for her when she needed him most.

He didn't know how to tell her, but he needn't have bothered. Gwen knew him long enough to understand without words. She had known him in two lifetimes. She patted his hand softly and grinned over at him.


	53. Temperamental Girlfriend

Episode Fifty Three

While Graves was back in her life on a more regular basis Harry felt the wicked pangs of jealousy. He gave Graves the "fatty-stink eye" or "hairy eye-ball" on more than one occasion and was less than successful at communicating politely with him. Gwen dismissed it for exactly what it was: envy. Plain and ugly envy that was not Harry's usual style.

If she wanted to explore polyamoury she had picked the two lousiest candidates in the world. While Corwin tried to be the graceful gentleman, more than willing to let his lady love go, Harry's posturing threatened to break his patience. He was bordering on telling the great Harry Potter exactly what he thought of him.

After a rather restrained dinner and several games of wizard's chess in which Graves used several new cusses she would have to remember for use on Malfoy only, Gwen yawned rather loudly. It was definitely time for bed. The boys weren't taking the hint. They were setting up the pieces again.

"I can beat you this time." Harry said.

"I doubt that Potter. You're grasp of the game is rather mediocre." Graves intoned.

Harry raised a defiant eyebrow. "Is that a challenge? You want to make a bet on that?"

"50 galleons." The older boy said, staring his opponent down.

"Deal."

Gwen couldn't take this anymore. "Will you two grow up?"

"What?" Graves asked defensively. He knew what he'd done wrong, but he wasn't about to admit it.

"This childish behavior. I'm not impressed."

Harry looked at her, frustration leaking from every pore. "We're just playing chess. It gets competitive."

"Oh fine." She said, throwing up her hands. "Then play on, I'm going to bed."

With that she strode from the hall, leaving both boys to return to their deadly stares.

"Do you really want to play this out?" Harry asked.

"Are you talking about the game, or are you talking about her?"

"She's not a game."

"The one thing we agree upon." Graves said shrewdly. He stood. "I should get going, it's late."

Harry nodded. Graves nodded. Neither wanted to say more, so they both marched out of the hall, one taking the stairs, the other taking the main doors.


	54. Worth It

Episode Fifty Four

Part One

            Gwen was tossing in her sleep. She hadn't had this much trouble sleeping in a long time. She finally got up, laying there wasn't going to help her. She might as well do something useful with her wakefulness. She wandered down to the common room with her backpack, stoked the fire and started working on an essay Dumbledore had assigned her on classroom etiquette from both the student and teacher perspective.

            He was thorough if nothing else.

            She tapped her quill against her lips, trying to think of a good opening line for her essay.

            It just wasn't coming to her today. It wasn't unusual for her to write her essays last minute. She'd never had a talent for scholastic writing, although she fared pretty well with her own little fictional stories based on her daydreams. That wouldn't help her now, however as the candle she lit to work by sputtered indignantly.

            One of the windows in the common room was ajar. She hadn't noticed it, but now felt the cool splash as the outside air leaked in. She went to close it and was almost bowled over as a large owl swooped in. The owl perched on a cushy chair and held out her leg.

            "For me?" Gwen asked.

            The owl simply waited. She stepped over to it curiously and pulled the letter off of her leg. She looked at the envelope before opening it. Only one word appeared on the cover. "Witchgrass." She intoned inquisitorially. "Well that's me." She said as she opened the envelope with a sigh.

            There was no parchment contained within, just a bit of colorful dust. She frowned and was trying to think of who would send her dust when the contents began to swirl on their own inside the envelope. The dust rushed out of its confines, past her and into the air, shimmering with light.

            She nearly screamed as the envelope burst into flames. She threw it into the fire grate and turned again to face the massive cloud of dust dancing before her. It was beginning to spell words, slowly but surely.

            "_Witchgrass,_

_            You would be surprised how easy it is to learn a new language. English is possibly the most colorful. It has the most expletives. I wanted to apologize for the secretive nature of the mound. I must keep some things secret. Gemma expressed her concern over our interest in you. I see no distinction between sellie and unsellie, although many of my subjects do. I see all the fey as my children and you are no exception."_

            The dust waited for her to catch up and then rearranged itself to spell out the next section of the letter.

            _"I couldn't stand to see one of my children in pain, so I stole you away from the death eaters and cared for you, until you were well enough to return to school. I hope my behavior has not caused you any inconvenience. Should you ever need me all you have to do is say your name aloud. I will rush immediately to your side. For now, farewell and take care little one._

_            Your King"_

            The dust waited once again for her to finish and then slowly faded. It was sucked out of the window and she ran to watch it dancing on the wind back to the Forbidden Forest. She raised her eyebrows. "That was interesting."

Part Two

            Gwen decided to send Gemma an owl, explaining the letter that the Stag King had sent her. She felt a sort of pride in knowing that the king took such good care of his subjects. Even though she was only partly fey he still cared enough to steal her away and hide her from danger. What country couldn't do with a leader like that?

            She slept well the rest of the night and finished her essay in ample time for Dumbledore. She sent away her owl to Gemma and another to Graves, apologizing for her anger the previous evening. She would tend to Harry directly.

            It seemed to her that the best way to deal with her strange existence was to keep plugging away. Sometimes she was a little afraid to get out of bed, but it was for that reason that she roused herself every morning. The unknown, the exciting mystery each day promised was more than enough to keep her hooked on life.

            She wasn't living in optimistic times (who ever is?), but she was living optimistically herself.

            Harry was glad to see her back to her usual self later in the day after receiving her apology for the huffy behavior.

            "It's ok." He laughed. "Graves and I were being pretty asinine. It's just that your so…" He paused, fishing for the right words. "Worth it." He finished.

            She rolled her eyes. Worth it, indeed. Worth all of the trouble she tended to cause? Worth all of the problems and unresolved past that haunted her still? She hardly felt worth it.

            Harry noticed the way she was staggering back and forth in her mind. She felt powerful and yet she felt worthless. She didn't think she was worth the lengths he and Graves went to in order to keep her affection. How could he explain to her that she was? This seemed to be more of a self-esteem issue than anything and while Harry had his share of chips he couldn't very well help someone else unload theirs.

            Gwen saw him staring off into the distance. He was so troubled sometimes it was frightening. He had seen hell, had been face to face with the devil himself. She blinked her eyes to clear the thoughts in her head. She couldn't help him until she helped herself.

            As before, neither one of them knew that they were thinking and feeling the same exact things.

Part Three

            Gemma replied immediately.

            _"Dear Guenivere,_

_            I am honestly surprised that the Stag King would take time to write to you. I know he is a kind and generous albeit mysterious individual, but I never understood his stance on the fey world before now. He may be having trouble with his current definition soon enough. With the rise of Voldemort there is trouble brewing, even in our world. Some of the unsellie are already prepared to die for the dark lord. Others are adamant that they will not join either side of the fight. And then of course there is the sellie court. None of us are certain what to do. Do we fight for something we have no connection to, or do we hide in our mounds until it all blows over? If it blows over._

_            Listen, I need you to be doubly on you guard. I was right in thinking you shouldn't be out beyond Hogwart's grounds and you definitely shouldn't come to the Forbidden Forest any more. There is a rumor, if only a rumor that Hogwarts may be attacked before the end of the school year. Please be responsible._

_            Gemma"_

            Gwen sighed. During her next visit with Dumbledore she showed him the letter. He read it, peering over his half-moon spectacles with a look of resignation.

            "Even the fey are choosing sides." He said softly.

            "I will do everything I can to help our cause." Gwen said emphatically. "I'll even go and speak with the sellie court if you would like. I might be able to convince them that we need their help. They can do some amazing things sir."

            "I appreciate your offer Guenivere. We may very well take you up on your offer to be an emissary to the fey for us, as none of us can visit the mound and come back freely."

            She nodded.

            "I will be looking into this rumor of an attack. As of right now, I need you to be up to speed so that you can readily defend yourself and our school should it be attacked."

            She nodded again, much more firmly. She wouldn't give up Hogwarts without a fight.


	55. Carcer Tristitia

Episode Fifty Five

Part One

Gwen's training had intensified. She had mastered the unforgivable curses on spiders and was put through them two years ago when Mad Eye Moody was a teacher. Although it hadn't really been Mad Eye, it didn't really matter. She was prepared for it.

She had dealt with the Crucio. She could throw off the Imperio. The Avada Kedavra was the only one she was worried about. That one had only been survived once before. She felt confident that her fey blood would protect her in this case, but she wasn't sure how. Maybe it was the immortal power the Stag King had lent to her. She felt like she could survive anything.

Weeks flew by, the semester winding down once again, or rather up for some students who were highly strung about their exams.

The rumor of an attack had died down, but Gwen was still concerned. She wrote to Gemma regularly in hopes of finding out more information and maintaining good contact with the mound, so that if their help was needed she could easily persuade them to join the cause.

And on the quietest morning of early March Gwen could not sleep. Another slicing pain in her chest had woken her. Someone was in trouble. She quickly shook off the sleepiness, grabbed her wand and cloak and peeked out the window to see if she could see anything.

She was not the least bit surprised to see several death eaters striding out of the Forbidden Forest early in the morning. They were wearing their masks, protecting their identities, hiding behind a mask of fear. They were weak, she thought. They were weak because they didn't dare show their real faces.

It was with these kind of thoughts that she strode out to meet them. It was so early that no one else was awake to intercept them. Gwen had to defend the castle. What kind of DADA teacher would she make if she couldn't do just that?

She wasn't alone. Striding out of the shadows to meet her was the cloaked Graves. He looked at her. "I knew you'd come."

"It's a bit early to wake the whole castle. Besides, I think we can take them by ourselves."

"That's a big group Gwen."

"With all your dark arts experience and my obvious talent for surviving curses, I think we'll get along just fine."

He frowned at her. Was she always so cocky first thing in the morning? "If you say so."

The forged ahead to meet the group.

Part Two

            The death eaters stopped in their tracks a few feet from Graves and Gwen. They weren't prepared for an emissary, if that's what this was. None of them spoke; the tension was so exquisitely delicious. Gwen hadn't felt this tense in ages; she'd almost forgotten the rush of it.

Wands were out. She had hers pointed at the largest figure, assuming it was the leader as it stood in the very center of the circle. There were thirteen in all, a fitting number Gwen thought. She had never held with the superstition that thirteen was a bad luck number. As a matter of fact, she frequently bet on it in the dream world and often won.

Suddenly the biggest death eater cleared his throat. "This doesn't concern you children." He (as the voice was decidedly male) said almost mocking.

"Perhaps you're mistaken." Gwen began. "This is an alumni of Hogwarts and I am currently training to become a teacher here. I hardly believe we'd really count for children anymore." She thought she heard a slight chuckle from under a mask, but it quickly turned into a cough.

"If you do not get out of our way there will be hell to pay." The big one continued.

"Maybe for you." Gwen said.

Graves was nearly choking at her nerve. He had never seen her so confident of anything.

Without wasting anymore time the largest one pointed his wand at Graves and uttered a curse Gwen had never heard before. "Carcer Tristitia."

Graves fell into a heap at her feet. She kneeled down to him, wrapping him in her arms. The death eaters, feeling that they had distracted her sufficiently with Graves moved past her to the castle. She stared into his eyes as he struggled to get the words out.

"I came back for you." He said as his body fell limp.

"I know you did." She whispered. The pain in her chest was spreading outward further and further until she was almost numb with grief. He made one last effort to squeeze her hand.

"You have always been my best friend. I..." He said hazily and faded into oblivion.

She closed her eyes; she couldn't see anymore. She wouldn't let herself. She held his body tight to her chest, anger spreading out in every direction from her heart. It was spilling from her eyes in mad tears; it was leaking from her mouth in a wailing cry that shook the very earth they stood on.

She laid her friend to rest gently on the ground and rose up to her full height. While she was still very small she was fierce and terrible looking. Her hair was streaming out all about her, chin was held high. She began speaking low and hoarse, building in intensity with each word. She didn't understand the words, but she knew their purpose.

She was speaking the ancient fey tongue that the Stag King had taught her while she remained in his care. They were coming out of her very soul, bypassing her brain all together. The death eaters turned, fear in their eyes now. They couldn't move any closer to the castle nor any further from the terrifying sight Gwen had become.

They had heard of old fey magic, but they had never seen it in practice. Gwen's eyes were on fire, a flame had leapt to life in the core of her being and it would be a long time before she could get it under control again. She pointed at each and every one of the death eaters around her and before any of them knew what was happening they were writhing on the ground in agony.

She would not kill them. No, she would never kill them. That was for the dementors of Azkaban. But she would remind them momentarily of the pain they had caused her and the pain they had caused Harry and Graves. She would remind them of the way her father died, and the way her mother died.

She would break their evil will and send their dried up souls to waste away in Azkaban.

Part Three

Dumbledore was rushing down from the castle to the mass of black masked invaders writhing on the ground. He stopped before he reached Gwen. He couldn't be certain she would recognize him as a friendly face in this state. She noticed the movement out of the corner of her eye and slowly eased off.

Her words slowed and trickled into a whisper and then suddenly there was silence so deafening.

            She slumped to the grass, the death eaters around her silent, unconscious. Dumbledore stepped over to her. She seemed disoriented, confused almost as to what she'd just done. She pursed her lips and frowned. Graves.

            She startled Dumbledore by rushing over to the young man, lying still in the grass. She tugged at his sleeves and whispered his name. He was still breathing but was not remotely responsive to her.

"No, No Graves come on. You haven't ever once failed me. Get your ass up and talk to me right now. Tell me I'm stupid, come on Graves. Who's going to tell me I'm stupid?" She was becoming manic, throwing her full weight into trying to wake him.

            She stopped suddenly when a calm hand touched her shoulder. She looked up into the wise blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore. There was remorse there, regret that he had not taught her better. She looked away from him, ashamed. She heard him sigh.

            She was slowly becoming aware of what exactly she'd done and was blinking back her own frustrated tears. Why didn't she ever think before she acted?


	56. Consequence

Episode Fifty Six

Part One

There was to be a hearing on Gwen's behavior. While it was not unbecoming for a fully licensed adult wizard to put his or her life on the line to defend a school from death eaters it was hardly responsible behavior for a student to do so.

Consequence she found, was something she didn't understand. She knew her "rush-forward and damn the consequences" attitude often got her in trouble. She had inherited that from her mother. Mix that with someone who has bravery coming out of their ears and a savior-complex and you've got a problem.

She didn't speak to her fellow students for days, which didn't matter much. None of them were really prepared to talk to her either. They hadn't seen the event as it occurred, but they had heard all too well that she had subdued thirteen death eaters single-handedly. They were amazed that there was someone with that kind of power in their school. They were even more terrified because she might very well subdue them if they angered her too much.

Dumbledore was confident that whatever Gwen had done she would not do it again, but some of the other teachers kept an especially keen eye on her. She was allowed to continue classes, but she could not participate in any extra-curricular activities until her name was cleared. Dumbledore had canceled most of them anyway. Hogwarts had come very close to being openly attacked.

Graves was in the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey had never seen anything like it. It wasn't a coma, he was still breathing on his own. It wasn't like the living death. No, he was merely unconscious, but he would not respond to anything.

Trying to help, Gwen explained the curse the death eater had performed. "I've never heard it before, he said: Carcer Tristitia."

Dumbledore and Pomfrey looked at her curiously; neither of them had heard it before either.

"My, I believe this is a newly discovered curse." Said Dumbledore fascination and terror residing tandem in his voice.

Part Two

Harry was trying to placate Gwen at lunch that afternoon.

"I just want to run away." She said, the tears threatening to enter her voice. Her mouth was set in a hard line. She pounded her fist on the table. She wanted to rip out her hair. She wanted to scream. She wanted to be free.

Harry gave her his pluckiest smile and said, "It'll be ok."

She shook her head. "No it won't. There were a thousand other things I could have done than run down there to tackle them myself. The least I could do was wake a teacher. I didn't think Harry, I just did. And I need to stop that."

"What's the worst that can happen?"

"I can be expelled."

"They wouldn't."

"They might. I endangered another wizard's life."

"He," Harry said emphatically "endangered himself."

"The hearing council might not see it that way. If they don't expel me, they might just suspend me which will delay my license for a year. They may even put me on a kind of probation, bar me from practicing some kinds of magic. I doubt I'll be able to teach now."

"Dumbledore will not let something like this prevent your appointment to the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. You're the first viable candidate since Snape and he really doesn't want Snape in there."

Gwen leaned over, bumping her head on the table top. The others jumped back slightly as she began to repeatedly bang it onto the hard surface. Harry was reminded suddenly of Dobby the house elf. He pulled her up by her shoulders into a sitting position again.

She looked at him surprised. "Harry, why do you do this to yourself?"

"Do what?"

"Put up with me. Take care of me. I've never known anyone with as much patience as you have."

"I told you I was patient." He smiled wryly.

Part Three

            Dumbledore sat in his office, gazing at a giant volume of magic spells. No where in his studies did he remember hearing "Carcer Tristitia." But that didn't mean he hadn't learned it and simply forgotten. He searched text after text hoping to find something that might ring a bell, but nothing.

            The young man lying in the hospital wing, unresponsive to every treatment was depending on him to get his life back. If Dumbledore failed, then surely no one would be able to help him.

            The age was showing again, Dumbledore noticed as he gazed at himself in his mirror. The tiredness dimmed his usually shining blue eyes. The wrinkles were sagging lower than usual. And there was now a weight on his back that he could not displace. Not only was Graves lying injured in the hospital, but there were thirteen death eaters on their way to Azkaban for attempting to attack the school.

            Hogwarts was not as safe as everyone had until now suspected.


	57. Cauda Draconis

Episode Fifty Seven

Part One

            That evening as Gwen laid down to sleep she was haunted by a strange vision. She kept seeing a tall, shadowy man with tan horns peeking over his ivy covered head. She couldn't see his face clearly. The man was pointing at something, a small piece of parchment. She rolled out of bed, frowning.

            The Stag King was trying to tell her something, but what she couldn't be certain. She struggled to her bag, rubbing her eyes and yawning. She needed to sleep sometime this century. She couldn't help anyone if she was too tired to move or think. Finally she had wrestled open the pack and was searching through any piece of parchment she could find for an answer.

            Nothing was really striking her, she turned to her trunk at the foot of her bed. It opened noisily and one of the other girls grunted. She grimaced, trying to keep back the sudden fit of giggles. The situation was so ridiculous she couldn't help but laugh at herself. She was searching through a term's worth of parchment trying to find something that would jog her memory, give her a clue as to why the Stag King wouldn't get out of her head.

Part Two

            Dumbledore gazed at Gwen during their lesson. She looked antsy, as if she'd rather be somewhere else. She kept reaching into her pocket and frowning.

            "Is there something you'd like to do?" He asked her.

            She looked at him. He was a great and wise wizard, perhaps he could understand what had happened the night before. "Well sir, it all started last night. The Stag King was standing in my dreams. He kept pointing to a piece of parchment and he wouldn't let me sleep until I tried to find it." She pulled a letter from her bag. "My hand tingled when I touched this and I fell into a vision of some kind. He was there and he was helping a mound move." She handed the letter to Dumbledore.

            He perused its contents. It was from Gemma and had described the king moving the mound. When he looked up at Gwen she pursed her lips.

            "There was more to the vision, but I didn't understand it. There were natives drawing lines in the sand with sticks of driftwood. We were close to the coast, and very near the beach. One of the elder tribesman was bent over the marks and trying to decipher them." She frowned. "And that was all."

            "Africa." Dumbledore said quietly. Suddenly he leapt from his chair as if the youth had returned to him even if just for a fleeting moment. He walked over to a giant shelf of books and pulled out a thin tome. He set it gently on the desk before him.

            "I have never before heard "Carcer Tristitia," but it is simply because that system of divination is not commonly used in the UK."

            "You know what it means?"

            "No." He said simply. "However, I do know where to find out." With that he turned to the book and opened up the sleek, leather bound volume. "What you saw on the beach was geomancy. The Stag King must regard you highly; he has lead you to the answer to help your friend."

            She looked at him amazed. He was the greatest wizard alive.

Part Three

            After some amount of research together Gwen and Dumbledore found the information they needed to formulate a plan. They had discovered that Carcer and Tristitia were in fact the names of figures within geomancy, a rarely used form of divination that originated in Africa. Together they meant Cell of Sadness. Somehow the death eater's curse had trapped Graves in a repeating loop of misery so deep he could not respond to any stimuli.

            "We could try and free him from the cell." Gwen suggested meekly.

            "How do you propose we do that?" Dumbledore asked.

            "We could look for other figures in geomancy, perhaps there's one for liberation."

            Dumbledore smiled. If she found the way to free Graves it would sit much better with the council and she might still be able to teach. Not that any decision they made would hold him back from hiring her. He had once hired a werewolf with the right qualifications. Hell, he'd even hired a former death eater. He would not prevent some malady or unfortunate past to stop a talented teacher.

            He watched Gwen as she calmly pored over the book. She mouthed each word softly to herself, trying to find just the right combination to suit her needs. Something struck her. She stared at it a moment, repeating it in her head over and over.

            "Cauda Draconis." She said triumphantly.

            He raised his eyebrow. It was an interesting choice. "The Dragon's Tail."

            "Yes. It also means to exit and I think that if we pair it with Carcer Tristitia he might come out of it."

Part Four

            With a formula in place Gwen and Dumbledore ventured down to the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey was quite surprised to see them, although Gwen had been visiting regularly she hadn't seen the girl and Dumbledore together since the day Graves was brought in.

            "Good afternoon Poppy. We'd like to try something if you don't mind." He said with a bright smile.

            "Of course Professor."

            They stepped over to Graves bed. He looked strangely peaceful on the outside, but Gwen was certain inside he was in deep suffering. She pulled out her wand and waited for Dumbledore.

            "After you my dear." He said, nodding at the astonished look on her face. "You are a very capable witch and I think you will find this to be no challenge at all."

            She blinked. Her lips kept pulling into various frowns. Finally she took a deep breath, shook her head gently to loosen up the random energy hiding there. She remembered the techniques she studied with Professor McGonagall to relax before spell casting. One more deep breath and she was in the right mind set.

            She closed her eyes, lifted her wand. She pointed it at Graves without looking and breathed the words: Cauda Draconis Carcer Tristitia. When she opened her eyes again Graves was sitting up and smiling at her.


	58. The Pain She Caused Him Was Unlike Any B...

Episode Fifty Eight

            "Took you long enough." Graves teased, a light in his dark blue eyes.

            "You're back!" She yelled, all but jumping into his arms.

            Dumbledore nodded as if something he thought to be true had just been confirmed. He bowed slightly to Gwen, who bowed in return and then he exited.

            "I must owl the council." He said. "They should know what you've accomplished before they proceed with the hearing."

            She immediately returned her attention to Graves. "You ok?" She asked timidly.

            "Yeah, but I'm telling you, don't ever piss off a death eater. That was some trip." He seemed mired in his memory for a moment. There was a distinct feeling of pain, visible in the thin line about his jaw. He sighed. "Are you in any trouble?"

            "Up to my neck." She said with a forced smile. The more she made herself smile, the sillier she felt and then the more lighthearted and so on until her troubles didn't seem so pressing.

            "What's this hearing about?"

            "Well, first off I endangered your life."

            "I endangered my own life." He interrupted. "If I had thought them so dangerous I might have tried to talk you out of it. But I didn't, I went on with you because I could and I thought we could handle them."

            "Then there's the whole issue of my hasty judgment." She continued, his interruption barely breaking her stride. "Someone with as much power as I have and so little leash could pose a danger to the other students. You don't have to tell me that's what they're all thinking. I know. Hardly anyone will talk to me anymore; I terrify them."

            Graves looked at her seriously. "You really think you could pose a threat to them?"

            "If I lost my head again. If someone hurt you or Harry."

            His lips grew thin at Harry's name.

            "I'm sorry." She said. "But the two of you are going to have to learn to share me."

            He shook his head. "Do you even know what you're asking?"

            "Yes, I do. Listen, I need you to be on my side. This hearing isn't going to be easy and I need all of the friendly support I can get."

            He looked at her, shielding his eyes with his lids slightly. He couldn't let her see that the death eaters were nothing compared to the pain she caused him.


	59. An Experiment Gone Horribly Wrong

Episode Fifty Nine

Part One

            So much had transpired in the past couple of days and Gwen just wanted a moment for herself. Between people trying to decide how best to deal with her (Malfoy was taking to skirting her in the corners, she almost laughed at the fear she caused him now) and buckling down for final exams she had little time to think on the future.

            On Dumbledore's avid insistence the hearing on her behavior had been canceled. There were to be no immediate repercussions for either her or Graves, nor would there be any rewards. Gwen was more than comfortable with that arrangement.

Dumbledore officially offered her the assistant teaching position to begin the term following her graduation. She immediately accepted and was more than excited at the prospect of becoming a full-fledged professor. There were other things that she needed to deal with first, however.

Her mother had been buried and she had not yet paid her final respects. She needed to find her Aunt Ann and Uncle George, in hiding she presumed. She wanted desperately to sort out this business with Harry and Graves before the term ended.

Before she could handle any of her issues however she had a bit of an idea. It started when she had accidentally overheard Snape and Hagrid talking in one of the corridors.

"If yeh treat 'em like they're stupid they'll act stupid." Hagrid said gruffly.

"I highly doubt I should take teaching lessons from such a junior member of staff, like yourself Rubeus." Snape said coldly.

Gwen pushed herself as tight against the wall as she could and concentrated once again on appearing invisible. The professors passed by her slowly, allowing her to catch a bit more of their conversation.

"I'm tellin' yeh Snape, if yeh just tried ter talk ter Neville."

"I will not talk to Neville. If he has a problem he can come to me."

"He's too timid ter talk ter yeh."

"That is his problem." Snape said, trailing off as they turned the corner.

Gwen waited a few moments before moving again. Something Hagrid had said struck her. _If yeh treat 'em like they're stupid they'll act stupid. If she just changed stupid to rotten she could apply it to Malfoy. Since her return he'd been acting awful again, but maybe if someone tried to be friends with him he would stop._

Gwen would offer him a truce.

Part Two

            He passed her in the charms corridor on the way to class. He hadn't even seen her. Now was as a good a time as any. "Malfoy." She commanded.

He cowered at the sound of her voice and stopped in his tracks. He realized how ridiculous this looked and so tried to regain some of his usual oily composure. It wasn't working.

"What do you want?" He said a little high pitched, turning to face her.

"I want to talk to you."

"About what?"

"About our relationship."

"Don't tell me you've fallen in love with me too?" He sniggered.

"You wouldn't be so brave if I had a wand in my hand." She reminded him seriously. "I want to call a truce."

"A truce? You want me to be civil to you? After all you've done to me you actually expect me to accept."

She rubbed her temple. He was be awfully testy this morning in response to what she thought was an especially kind gesture. He posed no threat to her, not yet, and even then she could easily annihilate him. Was he so thick?

"Malfoy a war is starting. I'd prefer to have more friends than enemies, particularly if those friends are on the other side. I know exactly what you are. You aren't evil, you don't have it in you. You can say all the awful things you want to, you've never done a truly evil deed. All this posturing is to please your father and he still doesn't approve of you, does he?" She spoke low enough, so only he could hear.

"What would you know about it?" He asked hotly.  
            "I'd know a lot about it actually." She continued calmly. "You're hurting inside more than you care to share. I can help you. I can be a friend who will listen to you, walk you through the rough times."

His face was filled with rage. He was turning a very Vernon Dursley purple. The idea was preposterous, but she had hit upon something he had never admitted to anyone. He was nothing more than a little boy trying to impress his father, a father who couldn't care less.

"I will never agree to a truce." He said, his voice dripping with deadly intent.

She looked at him evenly. "Fine. But the offer is still on the table." She walked away, to leave him spluttering in his anger and embarrassment.

Part Three

There was only a week left, finals were finished and students lounged about waiting for the results.  Malfoy saw Gwen lazing on the lawns, smiling at Harry reading aloud from a comic book about muggles. He strode over to them. "Half blood freak." He said, nearly spitting the words at her.

She looked at him calmly. No matter what she would ride this through. Harry made a move to stand, but she placed a hand gently in front of his chest stopping him. Malfoy's eyes narrowed into tiny slits, measuring her up.

"What do you say we have another duel?" He said.

"I have nothing to prove, Malfoy. It would be a waste of my time and yours." She replied coolly.

He arched his eyebrow. "How about you Potter, want to have a go?"

"This obviously has nothing to do with me." Harry sighed. He would have loved the opportunity to knock Malfoy on his ass, but in consideration for Gwen he would not do so.

Malfoy's anger was bubbling up and he couldn't contain it much longer. He turned back to Gwen. "You and I will have it out before long."

She couldn't decide how to respond. No matter what she said to him he would react as badly as ever. She couldn't say anything more about his father, it was obviously a sensitive subject. She couldn't try and convince him that she was being sincere. She really didn't want another enemy, and underneath his rude exterior she felt there might be a good guy dwelling somewhere. Only time would tell.

Before she could say anything, however, Malfoy stalked away, his fists balled in rage.

"What was that all about?" Harry asked.

"An experiment gone horribly wrong." Gwen said wryly.

"Care to share?"

"Well, everyone treats Malfoy like the enemy, right?"

"That's because he is the enemy."

"No, Voldemort is the enemy."

Harry looked at her surprised. He knew that saying the name had never bothered her, perhaps it was a fey thing, but she was the only one who said it fearlessly. Her bravado took his breath away.

She sighed softly. "I just thought that if Malfoy had friends other than Crabbe and Goyle, maybe he'd be nicer. It sounds stupid, but I offered him a truce. I thought that maybe if I treated him kindly he might treat other's kindly in return."

"It's a nice thought Gwen. A really nice thought. But I think Malfoy is beyond kindness now." He said, looking back on his own tumultuous history with the boy. Maybe she was right, but it hardly seemed worth the trouble to him. What was one more to Voldemort's side?

And then he remembered Cedric Diggory, someone he had avoided thinking about since that awful night two years prior. Malfoy's jeering over the boy's death had enraged him so. Maybe Malfoy just didn't know better. "Well," he started quietly "maybe you're right."

She smiled. His words would give her enough courage to stick with it. When Malfoy was at his worst she would be at her best.


	60. Up Until Now

Episode Sixty

            As she lay awake that night she thought about everything that had happened over the past two years. She had learned that everything she knew was lies, fabricated for her by her mother. She had shattered those lies with her own strength of mind, but she had not learned all of the truth before her mother died.

            She had fallen in love with Harry Potter and in love with Corwin Graves. She had reunited Gabby and Chris. She had met her great-great-grandmother Gemma in the faerie mound. She had suffered the Cruciatus curse. She had been saved by the Stag King. She had subdued an entire group of death eaters.

            Most of all she had discovered who she was. She was young and impetuous still, but she was learning that bravery needed to be tempered with reason. Not everything could be solved with courage, although it certainly helped. Her problems seemed nothing compared to the world climate right now.

            Fear was replacing joy. For fourteen years the dark lord had not been seen or heard. At first folks hardly dared to believe he was gone. But when he did not make an immediate return joy took over. The terror he had instilled within the wizarding world was slowly wiped away and happiness reigned. Life had returned to normal and it was good.

            But the dark lord was returning. It could not now be denied, not even by Cornelius Fudge. The attacks of the death eaters were increasing alarmingly. The disappearances were just beginning. People were becoming tense and distrusting. Everyone feared what would come.

            There were a few who did not cower so easily. There was a small group willing to fight, ready to take the dark lord down once again. This group was called The Order of the Phoenix and they had been inactive for many years. Dumbledore, the great and powerful wizard had been preparing for some time and the group was now fully reactivated, all of the surviving members reinstated.

            The recruitments were easy. They selected the brightest wizards and witches who had graduated from Hogwarts not long ago. They invited any faculty not already a member. They had asked Harry, even though he was still only a student and soon after that they had asked Gwen.

            Any one with a wand and a will was welcome into the inner sanctum of the Order.

            Gwen was ready.


	61. Always

Episode Sixty One

            It was now or never. There were only two days left until the end of the term. Gwen would be traveling over the summer and while in France she would be contacting Madame Maxime. The half-giantess had been working closely with Hagrid for some time, but since Gwen was going to be there Dumbledore didn't think it would hurt to contact her personally via a member of the Order.

            She had spoken briefly with Graves at the end of his last visit and he had accepted everything she had to say with a grace that exemplified his gentlemanly temperament. She had to tell Harry now, before she left. She wouldn't see him again until school started and by then it just wouldn't be appropriate anymore. She pulled him aside in the common room, late in the evening and chit-chatted about whatever until the room cleared out.

"We're the same Harry." She rushed in a hurried whisper.

"What do you mean?" He asked, looking at her blankly.

"We're both orphans now. Our parents were killed by death eaters, yours by Lord Voldemort himself. And to top that off we're both near the top of the death eaters' hit list. And we're both very powerful and very young."

He looked at her. What was she getting at? Sometimes he just wished life with Gwen could be simple.

"That's where the similarity ends, Harry." She said quietly. "I'm pretty close to immortal and I don't know how to deal with that just yet. I have fey blood in my veins. It makes me crazy sometimes; I just want to run through the fucking daisies all day long. I just don't know if I can explain this to you."

"Explain what?"

"Harry, it's just not going to work."

His jaw dropped, trying to absorb the shock. "What? Why?"

"I'll be traveling all summer, Harry. And then I'm going to become a teacher, and you'll be one of my students. I'm also thinking about living in the mound in the Forbidden Forest with what's left of my family. And then you'll graduate. You'll move on to other things. Great things and I'm just going to hold you back. I have a lot of things I need to sort out before I can spend the rest of my life with someone."

Jealousy flickered for a brief moment. "What about Graves?"

            "The same goes for him. I'm not choosing one of you over the other. For right now, I'm choosing myself."

            He regarded her for a long time. "So this is it, huh?"

            "For now, Harry. I think it's best."

            He looked as if she'd just broken his will to live. He closed his eyes and pinched his nose, trying to stop the flow of his tear ducts. His breathing was deep and steady, but he was far from calm. He had many other things on his mind, like the whereabouts of his godfather, who was still missing.

            She wanted to comfort him but wasn't aware that she could. Finally he nodded his head, stood and took a very deep breath. "Ok." He said amiably enough. "Friends?"

            "Always." She said, her face crumpling as her own tear ducts refused to obey her.

            He wrapped her in his arms, as he'd down so many times before, except that this time his heart was breaking.


	62. Things Unknown

Episode Sixty Two

            Gwen did not see Harry off to the Hogwart's Express. She wasn't present at breakfast that morning. As a matter of fact, no one had seen her since that night in the common room.

            Chris was highly disappointed that his friend wasn't there to share in the triumph of their graduation. He rode with Gabrielle in the carriages to the train, and once on board they shared a compartment. They had exchanged addresses and had promised to write regularly. He thought, that maybe he had found the woman he was going to marry.

            But Gwen knew nothing of the budding romance between her friends. She had been too mired in her own problems to even notice the subtle way they smiled at each other and laughed just a little differently at each others' jokes. She would have been as pleased as punch had she known, but she would not learn until much later when she received an invitation to their wedding.

            Minerva knew that her goddaughter had spent the past two days holed up in the faerie mound with Gemma. She had given the emotionally distraught young woman permission to seek out her relatives of the mound. It didn't matter so much now, because Gwen was no longer a student and she wouldn't require anyone's permission to wander about the Forbidden Forest if the thought struck her.

            She watched for hours as Gemma carved more intricate patterns into that same silver table she'd seen many visits before. The way the lithe woman went about her work held Gwen's fascination far longer than anything else in her entire life. The tools were thin and looked scarcely able to provide ample power to carve out chunks of the precious metal medium. Yet Gemma knew how to finesse them. She was patient beyond belief. This table was to be a wedding gift. For whom, she was not yet aware, but the muses had inspired her and who was she to refuse their genius?

            She laid her tools to rest. Gwen shifted lazily from her nook in the wall. She had learned a few handy mound secrets in the past few days and was practicing them. Her favorite was a simple trick. The walls of the mound were actually quite pliable, which made them easy to manipulate or say, walk through. When she felt the desire to get off her feet she had only to push gently on the wall and it left her a neat little seat. She had pushed enough that she had a small daybed from which to watch Gemma work.

            The older fey sighed and sat down next to her great-great-granddaughter. "Feeling any better?"

            "More relaxed." Gwen replied. "But I'm leaving tomorrow. It's going to be awhile before I can hang out down here again."

            "Don't worry, the mound will still be here."


	63. A Temporary Goodbye

Episode Sixty Three

            Although Gwen didn't want to say goodbye to Hogwarts she really couldn't wait for her trip to France. She had never been, but she felt a strong connection. Her ancestors had come from France, although how far back she wasn't certain. She was tied to this country as strongly as she was to Hogwarts.

            Her bags packed, her heart in her throat she hugged her godmother. "Would you like any souvenirs?"

            "No." Minerva replied. She looked flushed and something had definitely changed about her.

            "You sure you're ok with me going alone?"

            "Professor Dumbledore trusts you and you're an adult now Gwen. I hardly think I could stop you even if I wanted to. Besides, I feel that this will be a good thing for you. You have power beyond my comprehension and I've no doubt you can take good care of yourself."

            Gwen glowed. "That means so much to me coming from you." She hugged her again.

            Minerva looked on her goddaughter with respect and love. She had the unique opportunity to watch the girl grow up and would soon have the pleasure of working with her. She counted her blessings and smiled that more would soon be coming into her life because of the proud young woman before her.

            She didn't think that she would get a response when she sent the letter, but to her surprise only a few days ago an owl arrived with a plain envelope in its beak. It was addressed simply Minerva. She opened it with shaking hands and read the letter within, her eyes hardly believing what she was taking in.

            After far too many years John had finally broken the silence between them.

            His letter was filled with remorse and apologies for the way he had treated her. Life, it seemed had not been kind to him and he wanted to take the opportunity she had given him to start over. She wasn't sure if she should tell Gwen now, or when she returned from her trip, but John had arranged a visit with Minerva. They would meet up in muggle London and spend a few days getting reacquainted and caught up. She felt almost giddy, something she hadn't felt since her wedding day.

            She would save it. Gwen would have enough on her mind with this trip and it was no use getting her all worked up over a simple visit with an ex-husband.


	64. France

Episode Sixty Four

Part One

            It had all been arranged. Gwen was going to stay with friends of Dumbledore in France. She had been given precise directions on how to apparate there, she simply needed to leave Hogwart's grounds before she could do so. When she arrived and settled in she would take an afternoon to visit Beauxbatons.

            When all of her business with Maxime was settled, _which shouldn't take long_, she thought, she would travel to Reims and the cemetery where her parents were buried. She would be able to apparate back and forth wherever she wanted to once she had her bearings.

            After that she had the entire summer to travel the countryside and see the sights. She figured she could spend an entire month alone in the Louvre and there was no lack of things to see. This summer, she was determined, was going to be the best of her life.

Part Two

            Dumbledore's friends were the most excellent hosts she ever had the pleasure to board with. They were three brothers who had learned as much English as possible to accommodate her and when they didn't know a word they would act it out like charades which provided an endless source of entertainment for all of them.

            The eldest was called Pierre, a rotund gentleman with great red cheeks and a seemingly endless supply of wine with which he quenched Gwen's thirst regularly. She didn't know it yet, but the Frenchman within her was slowly waking up to the joys of living rich. Soon she would be overtaken by the desire to drink barrels of wine and eat giant mounds of cheese. She was going to have to get this under control before she returned to teach.

            The next was Jerome, the smallest of all three, who kindly offered to be her tour guide about the countryside he knew. He knew the most English out of the three and spent the most time just chatting to Gwen about their pasts. He was sweet and mild compared to his other two brothers, and hardly seemed related to them.

            The last was Phillipe and he was definitely the wildest of the bunch. He drank Pierre under the table and both of them would be up late at night, playing cards and smoking more cigarettes than Gwen thought possible. Smoking seemed to be a very popular thing to do in France, but Gwen wasn't about to take up another bad habit.

            After a few days of cajoling about with the brothers three (which ironically was their last name: Trois) she finally decided it was time to deliver her letter to Madame Maxime. Dumbledore hadn't been very specific with his directions, but Gwen thought that it was merely because he was far too pre-occupied with other business about the Order. He handed her the letter with strict instructions to give it only into the Madame's hands.

            After hours of searching Gwen finally found Beauxbatons. It was one of those unplottable places and could not be positioned on a  map. This made her job particularly difficult, considering she had no concept of the French language. She couldn't ask for directions even if she had found a non-muggle type. Fortunately she had a knack for stumbling on things when she least expected. She figured it was just another facet of faerie luck, threw up her hands and laughed.

            She entered the gates to see a lovely castle, pale blue in color with airy windows everywhere. She approached the main door and after checking in with a guard entered a great marbled entranceway. Pillars ran from the floor to the ceiling, carved masterfully from the exquisite stone. Cherubs perched on top of the pillars gazed down at her and she could have sworn that they started to whisper excitedly when she turned her head from them.

            The room was devoid of living creatures as she noticed two over-dressed ghosts floating past her, speaking in the smooth cadence of the foreign language she could not understand. She smiled as they passed, hoping one of them would stop and point her in the right direction, but they didn't even perceive her. _Ironic, she thought, __that the dead could ignore the living just as much as the reverse._

            A large hand landed on her shoulder and reminded her strongly of the time she and Harry had been caught sneaking back into the common room by Professor McGonagall. Of course the memory carried with it a sinking, guilty feeling and it read loudly on her face when she turned to see the giant who had nabbed her.

            "What iz your name?" Madame Maxime said in her elegant accent. She was towering above Gwen in a deep blue, satin gown. Her body was well proportioned for its size, but what size. She stood as tall as Hagrid and with her eyebrow arched at a quizzical angle seemed almost deadly. Gwen didn't want to admit it, but for a moment she thought she might understand all the prejudice that came with being a giant.

            "What iz your name?" The half-giantess repeated.

            "Which one?" Gwen snorted, forgetting her manners. "I have quite a few."

            "Why iz zat?"

            "It's a defense mechanism, keeps people guessing." And it tended to be common in folks with fey blood. Even the Stag King had a multitude of names. Maybe it was a decoy to keep people from guessing their real name, which for reasons undisclosed to her held a strange power over the fey. Whomsoever had control of her fey name had control of her. "Guenivere." She said, trying to shake the thoughts from her head. "Most people call me Gwen."

            "Guenivere iz a lovely name."

            "Thank you Madame." She said courteously. She might as well try to be more formal and make a good show of it.

            "Dumblydor 'as sent you?"

            "Oui." She said, practicing the only French word she knew besides bibliotheque. Although she suspected that word would be useless to her in this context.

            "Tu parle Francais?"

            "No." She said with an embarrassed smile. "But you obviously have a fantastic grasp of English."

Madame Maxime positively beamed. Gwen made a mental note that flattery would get you everywhere with the French. They continued to make small conversation for over two hours, standing casually in the gorgeous hallway. Finally Gwen delivered her letter from Dumbledore and with much ado said adieu.

She smiled. _Hagrid and Maxime, she thought, _would make a great couple_._

Part Three

            Another few restful and alternately adventurous days with the brothers Trois passed before Gwen felt ready to visit her mother and father. She knew it was going to be the most emotionally trying experience of her life, even more than her experiences with Harry and Graves.

            Parents could wrench your guts out far more easily than guys.

            She found the cemetery much more quickly than Beauxbatons. She had even picked up a few French words and could ask for directions now if she needed to. But it was almost like the pull of the faerie mound, she let her feet lead the way and before she knew it she was there.

            There were so many headstones she hardly knew where to start. She looked up and down the rows of pristine stone, although many had been weathered and aged they were well tended to. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw the giant family marker: LeFey.

            Her hand over her heart she stepped forward timidly. She waded through forty headstones, some small, some large. All of these were her family. Her heart broke when she saw two freshly dug graves. One belonged to Beorc, that she had expected. The other belonged to George.

            She bowed her head in respect and grief, glad that she didn't need to talk to anyone. Her voice wouldn't have worked if she had tried. She felt a soft hand grasp her own lying limp at her side. She looked to her left and there stood a tender looking woman dressed in mourning black.

            "Aunt Ann?" She said, her eyes filling with the tears she had been fighting to hold back.

            "It's so good to see you again Guenivere." She gushed, fighting her own losing battle. She pulled her niece into her arms and held her, sharing their pain eased it just enough to make a difference. After some time she nudged the girl gently and asked her to tea.

            "I'd love that. We have so much to catch up on."

Part Four

            The two women spent the rest of the evening moving from emotion to emotion fluidly. They shared tears, laughter, anger and joy all at the same table, idly sipping peach tea and nibbling on bits of cracker and cheese.

            "How long have you been living here?" Gwen asked.

            "Since George died. I buried him as per his wishes and I didn't have any desire to leave."

            "What happened?" She asked, trying to pose the question as delicately as possible.

            "Heart attack." She said softly. "We didn't see it coming." She sighed. "But he's with his family now and sooner or later, so will I."

            Gwen was shocked to see her aunt thinking so morbidly. "Please don't talk like that." She urged. "I don't want to lose another family member. I have so few left."

            Ann smiled at the genuine feeling obvious in Gwen's words. "Of course dear. It's just so hard now that he's gone."

            "I know what you mean." She said, thinking on her mother.

            "I didn't know Beorc had died until I saw her headstone. Do you know what happened?"

            "Aunt Minerva thinks it might have been death eaters."

            "Aunt Minerva?"

            "My godmother." Gwen replied.

            "Oh."

            "Yeah, she's been great. Sometimes I don't know what I'd do without her. She keeps me… level"

            Ann laughed. "You must get that temperament from your father."

            "Really, I thought my mom was the wild child."

            "Oh no. I didn't know Beorc very well, but she wasn't nearly as wild as your father was. He was always getting himself into trouble. He was fearless."

            Gwen smiled warmly on memories of her father. He was fearless and she felt for the first time since his death a closeness to him. She couldn't understand her own strange fearlessness and perhaps it was something inherited, or maybe even something that she learned from him when he was still alive.

Part Five

            Before Gwen wanted to leave it was almost the end of the summer. She had spent the warm, sunny months hanging out with Ann and the brothers Trois back and forth. She had visited all of the places on her mental checklist: the Arc de Triumph, the Eiffel Tower, Napoleon's tomb, the champagne caves, every chateaux in northern France, the cathedrals, the beaches, the mile long Tapisserie de Bayeux and finally the Louvre.

            She spent an entire week in the impressionists' wing of the gargantuan museum before she could move on. She spent a full hour gazing at the Mona Lisa, ignoring the bustle of people around her vying to get a closer look. She couldn't believe that so many beautiful things could all be contained under one roof.

            When she wasn't ogling the art she was lazing under an umbrella of the Café de la Lune in Reims with one of the brothers. They could all apparate as well, and enjoyed popping around with Gwen. Jerome was her confidant, trying to help her sort out her boy problems over a plate of poutin. Philippe was her drinking buddy (seventeen is legal in France, so don't get any bad ideas about Gwen's mores), taking her out to all of the best discotheques. Pierre was her man for fine cuisine and loved to test her palate on some of the most interesting dishes on the planet.

            Ann got to meet the brothers as well and considering that they lived quite close to each other decided it was about time to make some friends. If she was going to stay in France she might as well have good relations with some of the natives.

            Gwen had even taken tea with Madame Maxime, twice at the headmistresses request. She was happy to test her new language skills with the gracious hostess and found that Madame Maxime was the most polite creature she had ever met. Even when she screwed up on her pronunciation Maxime would not correct her unless Gwen asked her to. By the end of the summer she felt confident that Olympe, as she was now allowed to call her would remain a friend for the rest of her life.

            With heavy sighs she packed her bags again, folding each article of clothing three times over to delay the inevitable. The brothers sent her away with many parting gifts. Pierre gave her three bottles of wine and two of champagne, asking only that she save one of them for a special occasion. Jerome gave her a gorgeous replication of the Mona Lisa, whose enigmatic smile gazed out from the portrait's frame endlessly. Philippe compiled a photo album of all the discotheques they had visited. She especially loved the picture taken in the Suds Club, a dance club that filled with bubbles and foam while people danced the night away, soaking wet but completely happy.

            Ann was the hardest to say goodbye to. Her aunt had made a splendid last dinner for all of them, baking Gwen's favorite desserts, pumpkin pie and cheesecake and serving them first. She followed it up with a shot of apple brandy, great to clear the palate. She then served roast duck, boiled potatoes, asparagus almandine and sweet rice. They had a plain salad to cleanse the palate for appetizers. She served up tomatoes vinaigrette, a liver pate with crackers and a smorgasbord of cheese. They finished with more desserts, this time a mixed berry tart served warm with vanilla ice cream and a sliver of whipped cream.

            They sat and talked over coffee, fuller than they'd ever been. The brothers told funny stories to lighten the heavy mood of departure and were relieved when both Gwen and Ann laughed so hard that their luke-warm coffee shot out of their noses.

            But Gwen had to go. She walked slowly upstairs to grab her bags. She would apparate outside the Hogwart's gates and walk back up to the castle. She wouldn't have much time to prepare for classes, but she felt that with all the training Dumbledore had given her that she could handle it on the fly.

            She was standing at the bottom of the steps for ten full minutes before she walked back into the kitchen. She hugged the brothers, one by one, thanking them for the lovely gifts. She looked at Ann before she went to hug her and sighed.

            "You'll come back." Ann said. "You have to come back and visit again."

            Gwen cracked a brave smile. "I will." She said and squeezed her aunt tightly.

            She pulled back and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she was gazing up at the skyline of Hogwarts, turrets sparkling in the setting sun.


	65. Professor Smith

Episode Sixty Five

            She lugged her bags up to the castle, a lightness in her step. She was so sad to go, but she was so happy to return. Hogwarts was home now and she couldn't help the silly grin plastered on her face.

            When she had unpacked in her new room and tidied up she tried to find her godmother. She couldn't wait to tell her all about the fantastic vacation she'd had. However she was nowhere to be found. Gwen frowned. It wasn't like Aunt Minerva to be far from her office with school this close to beginning.

            It would have to wait. She sighed, disappointed.

            Instead of going back to her room she decided now would be a good time to prepare her office some. As she was only an assistant teacher she had a small office next to the full fledged Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. She had been introduced to him earlier during her training, but didn't truly have the opportunity to work with him as yet.

            She was going to have her hands full. Professor Smith had been on staff during Gwen's seventh year. He was an American, a strange twist (all of the Brits knew better than to apply for the DADA position). Dumbledore seemed to have confidence in him, but Smith was even odder than the headmaster himself.

            He was a husky Sicilian bred man with dark hair and eyes. His skin was a yellow tan. He constantly complained that the kitchens didn't serve enough ethnic foods (namely spaghetti) and was more than happy to play the Italian stereotype.

            He was easy going if not lackadaisical. The current trend towards fear didn't seem to phase him the least. He taught his students with patience, understanding full well that they needed patience when dealing with him. His lessons could be a bit confusing from time to time as he had a slight stutter, particularly on words beginning with 'C' or 'G.' He tended to go off topic a lot, sliding off onto some tangent completely unrelated to the Dark Arts, but then turning it around and getting back to the original point.

            His round about style of teaching proved challenging for Gwen to follow, she couldn't imagine how the first years learned anything worthwhile. She had been around for awhile and knew that if you wanted to learn something of defense then you had to open a book and read and practice on your friends. The professors in this field rarely taught what they were supposed to (except for Professor Lupin and even the imposter Moody, who had both been a breath of fresh air to the students).

            Her function in the classroom would be to keep him on topic as much as possible. When they worked in groups, she would walk around and help supervise. During the term she would teach each grade level the unit of her choice (she had chosen to work with the fourth years on the Imperio curse as Moody once did and wanted to teach the first years about disarming wands, it was a useful trick for the young ones). Mostly she would serve to grade papers, something she dreaded.

            Professor Smith's door was open and when she peeked in he was face down, sound asleep on a pile of books. She had to work extra hard to stifle her giggles and moved to her own office. It was small, but very tidy (she half suspected that Minerva had come in to clean it during her vacation). There was an oak desk and matching chair with grey silk cushions (they may have been blue at one point, but faded badly from age). There was a pristine bookshelf, empty and waiting for her vast collection of books.

            She had collected a lot during her studies with Dumbledore and while closing her mother's estate had found many useful books on the subject. They were sitting neatly in a large box on her desk, just waiting to be placed upon the shelf. She cut open the box, inhaling the bittersweet scent of aged parchment. She loved the smell of old books. Even in the dream world she spent inordinate amounts of time in bookstores. She stood in awe of the perfectly lined up rows, ordered and labeled. Sometimes when she was feeling down she would just walk down to the bookstore on campus and wander through the stacks. It calmed her, like gazing out of windows. She had such appreciation for the written word.

            She placed her books carefully, insuring that she would remember exactly where they were located if she needed to consult one quickly. When she had covered the shelf she turned to her desk and opened a drawer, trying to decide what to put inside of it. She was surprised to see that it was already full of supplies, parchment, quills, bottles of multi-colored ink for grading. Aunt Minerva was at it again.

            She liked the feeling of sitting behind a teacher's desk. She thought however that the place needed some more cheer. She dashed up to her new room, located just left of the Gryffindor portrait hole. She assumed that there were many such rooms for professors and visitors alike, seemingly like classrooms, but so much nicer.

            She had a maroon curtained four poster, just as she'd had as a Gryffindor student. There was an antique cherry dresser instead of her foot locker for her clothing and a maroon velvet curtained closet at her disposal. There was another desk in this room, cherry to match the dresser and a chair upholstered in the same deep red velvet.

            It had one wall with windows which stretched from one side to the other, peeking out on the grounds below. This too was curtained with deep velvet and had gold tiebacks in between each window. There was a little loveseat-like bench resting just below here. It was almost as if Dumbledore knew she stared out of windows at night and wanted to provide her with something comfortable to sit on while she did so.

            She even had her own bathroom. It was tiled in dark and light blue from the floor to the middle of the wall. The upper part of the wall was pale blue paint, which at night blended into the deep navy of the ceiling which was dotted with tiny silver stars perfectly matching the constellations above. During the day the ceiling was sky blue and sometimes covered with hazy clouds, other times with only the sun sparkling down. It was amazing interior decorating to say the least, much like the enchanted ceiling of the great hall.

            There was a luxurious bathtub with many faucets, much like the prefect bathroom described in Rowling's books from her dream. There were blue tinted glass windows, distorted so that anyone aiming to get a peek couldn't see anything (even as far up from the ground as she was, students with brooms could pose a peeping Tom threat). Hanging over several silver bars on the wall was a never ending supply of fresh towels, soft pink and huge like rugs that she could wrap around herself three times and still have extra cloth.

            She couldn't believe how lucky she was and that these gorgeous surroundings were now her home.

            She decided to pull the curtains from her bed to use in her office decor, as she didn't think she'd need them anymore. She didn't have to worry about sharing the room with anyone, so she didn't need the privacy the curtain provided. She snatched the Mona Lisa from Jerome and the photo album from Philippe.

            She picked up a gold, oval picture frame of her mother and father as they were much younger, smiling and laughing with George and Ann. This had been her parting gift from Aunt Ann. The older woman had said: "Consider it a belated birthday present."

            With all of her trappings wrapped up in her arms as best as she could hold them she ventured back to her office. She set the picture frame on the desk where it would remain for the duration of the school year. She placed the photo album on the shelf along with her myriad of books. She would spend those frustrating moments where she needed a break flipping idly through the pages.

            The Mona Lisa she carefully mounted on the wall, next to the door so that she could look at it while she sat at her desk. The curtains she altered. With a simple charm she changed the color to a bright, cheery purple and spent the rest of the night gathering the fabric with golden ties to hang above her office windows. She even fashioned a smaller curtain for the glass pane on her door.

            When she was just about finished there was a light tapping on her door.

            "Come in." She called from the window, standing on her desk, a nail hanging out of her mouth, a hammer in one hand, the fabric in the other. She was pleased to find that these tools were at her disposal in what she assumed was an old storage closet that Filch had used just across the hall.

            "What a lovely improvement." Her godmother said.

            She turned and smiled, forgetting for a moment that the nail was hanging from her lips. She nearly laughed and almost fell before she finally turned back again and nailed the curtain in place. "Sorry, almost done."

            "Oh no dear, take your time."

            She finished quickly, set down her borrowed hammer and offered Minerva the seat at her desk.

            "Oh, no. That's all right." The older woman smiled.

            "I'll have to get another chair in here, in case a student would like a conference, that sort of thing." She felt a rush just thinking about it. A student in her office, her office as a teacher.

            "I was just going to ask if you wanted to take dinner in the great hall tomorrow night? I will be away in the afternoon, so I won't be able to take lunch with you."

            "Oh, I was so hoping we'd be able to catch up." Gwen sighed and really looked at her godmother for the first time since she'd been back. Something had definitely changed; there was a glow about the woman that couldn't be denied.

            "We will, it will just be later in the day."

            "Sure, the great hall sounds fine." She said, barely able to conceal her curiosity.

            "And you'll finally be able to sit at the head table."

            Gwen laughed. "I know, it feels weird. I don't know if I'm going to get used to this."

            "You will. And you have the opportunity to warm up to it, you don't have to dive right in just yet."

            "I almost think that would be better." Gwen said, leaning against her desk. "Professor Smith is going to be erm, fun to work with."

            It was Minerva's turn to laugh. "Yes well, he's certainly been an interesting addition to the staff. Well, I'll let you get back to your decorating and I'll see you for dinner tomorrow night."


	66. Good Fortune

Episode Sixty Six

Part One

            Gwen couldn't wait for dinner. Something had happened to her godmother while she was away and she knew it was good. She just didn't know what it was.

            Because she was so anxious to find out, the day dragged along. She spent most of the morning going over the term's curriculum with Professor Smith. She spent the afternoon chatting with Dumbledore about her adventures in France and talking over ideas for the classroom.

            "I'd like to teach a section dealing with Ouranian Barbaric."

            "Ah yes. I remember you mentioning something about it during our studies. How would you propose that it be useful to the field of defense?"

            She smiled. "Well, in my personal studies it has varying degrees of success. I feel it could be a very powerful tool if used and taught properly. Of course it's not a full language, it only has roughly two hundred words in its current vocabulary and to discover more one would have to scry. But if it were turned into a class project I think we might be able learn more words and put them to use. Even the geomancy figures could be used in curses and counter curses, who's to say that the dark forces won't turn to other systems of magic unexplored. I think this would be a great advantage to our side, advanced knowledge of a magical language for our own use."

            Dumbledore scrutinized her up and down. She had not discovered, nor had she claimed to have made up the language, but he knew that it did not exist in this world until she had used it. He knew fragments about her dream world experience, as Minerva had attempted on several occasions to explain to him why Gwen was such a special case. He thought that perhaps Beorc LeFey had a hand in making the language and if that was so then it would indeed be powerful. Since no one but Gwen knew all of the words currently in the language it could prove a great advantage in the coming war.

            Gwen was very serious about the plan to make scrying for words a class project for the second term. She would use it as a practical application for the seventh year students. He frowned. "This sounds more like a interdisciplinary project. You may want to work with Madame Trelawney when it comes to scrying."

            "That would be excellent." Gwen bubbled. "But if she doesn't want to work on the project may I still proceed?"

            "Let's give it some time. Continue your research and contact the Madame. We'll decide if this is something to pursue in the classroom over Christmas holiday."

            She positively beamed. Before dinner she rushed to her office and began working up the preliminary details for the project. This of course included a vocabulary list of all the words she could remember. It wouldn't be complete, but she herself could scry for the words she couldn't remember. And Madame Trelawney would come in very handy in that case. While Gwen had that natural fey ability to see, she couldn't very well teach it in the classroom. She would need the help of a divination professor for that lesson.

            And finally it was time for dinner. She practically ran down to the great hall, huffing and puffing her way to the head table. She tried to act casually as she sat down between her godmother and Professor Snape, smiling and nodding at all of the teachers assembled. Minerva was trying very hard to look severe, but was failing miserably as the corners of her mouth kept lifting upwards in a smile.

            The plates were magically filled and chatter slowly began to filter in. She tried to carefully edge as far away from Snape as humanly possible. He was unusually silent this evening and Gwen thought he kept scratching at his forearm distractedly.

            Minerva engaged her actively, asking all manner of questions about her trip. "How was the Eiffel Tower?"

            "Oh the view was fantastic. I liked it better at night to be perfectly honest though, all the lights. And the cafés. The tea they served was divine, although the French are really coffee people at heart."

            "I hear you and Madame Maxime got along famously."

            "Surprisingly." Gwen said, noticing the way Hagrid perked up at mention of the half-giantesses name. "I never would have expected it, but she is possibly the kindest woman I've ever met. She's so polite."

            "Yep." Grinned Hagrid, leaning forward to talk around Snape, who looked like he'd rather not be there at all. "That's Olympe."

            "She's such a good hostess." Gwen said, sensing that she may have been right about her suspicions. She had seen the way the two of them talked during the Tri-wizard Tournament. It was as if they were made for each other.

            Gwen was going to be highly disappointed with the rest of the meal. The food was excellent, no doubt, as was the company. But she would not find out what her godmother was itching to tell her in such mixed company.

Part Two

            Finally the plates cleared; the teachers gathered themselves up and took to their own devices. Dumbledore followed Snape out of the hall, presumably back to the dungeons to talk about something that looked rather urgent. Hagrid slowly ambled out by himself, a whimsical smile hiding beneath his bushy beard.

            Minerva sent Gwen a conspiratorial grin and the young woman followed her happily up several flights of stairs to her office. When they arrived she shut the door, conspicuously peering out to ensure that no one would hear their conversation. She seated herself in one of the great armed chairs by the fireplace and waited for Gwen to join her.

            Gwen recognized that look on her face, she had seen it often at slumber parties when giggly girls were about to play truth or dare. She sat, a slowly spreading grin working its way onto her face. She gave her godmother an imperious look and waited.

            "Oh." The older woman sighed. "There's so much to tell I don't even know where to begin."

            "I'm not leaving until I hear the whole thing." She said firmly.

            Minerva giggled. Gwen could hardly believe her ears. "What is it?" She exclaimed.

            "I have only you to thank for all of this."

            "Me?"

            "Yes, you." Minerva said. "When we spoke about my marriage to John I realized how much I really missed him. You know I wrote him a letter."

            "Yes, did he respond?"

            "I received the letter just before you left. We made plans to visit and have been seeing each other all summer."

            Gwen felt her jaw drop. She tried to restore it, but to no avail. Finally she brought her hand to her chin and pushed up. Her jaw closed, she listened as Minerva gushed on for nearly three hours about all the visits she and John had had over the summer.

            "I wanted to tell you sooner." She said. "But I didn't think it was right with everything you had on your mind. Oh, Guenivere, it's like nothing's changed between us, but everything's changed. It's so hard to describe."

            Gwen smiled. If anyone deserved good fortune, it was decidedly Minerva McGonagall.


	67. Assistant Professor LeFey

Episode Sixty Seven

Part One

            When the students arrived they were not surprised to see Gwen sitting at the head table wearing robes of midnight blue. However they weren't certain what they should call her. The Gryffindors were particularly keen to see their new assistant Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, and even more so to see her do well.

            The sorting proceeded nicely. When all of the new students were sitting in their new houses Dumbledore rose to give his start of term notices.

            "I would like to once again reiterate that the Forbidden Forest is strictly forbidden to all students. Mr. Filch would like to remind everyone of the addendum to the Restricted Items List. I believe you will find a copy in his office for your perusal. Sadly, Hogsmeade weekends have been temporarily suspended until further notice." And after a deep breath: "I would also like to welcome our newest faculty member, Miss LeFey. She will be assisting in the teaching of Defense Against the Dark Arts this term. I expect you all to extend her your warmest welcome."

            There was a mixed amount of warm hearted cheers and scattered applause, some queasy huzzahs and two very distinct boos coming from the Slytherin table. Malfoy she noticed, was silent at the strange display, as was Harry although for very different reasons.

            While Draco was trying to come with a plethora of ways to unsettle the new teacher, Harry was gazing at her trying to come up with a way to convince her that they were meant for each other.

Part Two

            Her first day in the classroom was interesting to say the least.

            Professor Smith introduced her to each class as Dumbledore had done, as Miss LeFey. She wouldn't get to wear the title of Professor just yet, but she thought that being called Miss LeFey was an equally large adjustment. Some of the older students forgot themselves sometimes and reverted to calling her Gwen, but many of them were still rather intimidated by her. Only time would erase the terrifying images they had of her surrounded by thirteen knocked out death eaters.

            The first years were very keen to learn. Some of the older students were not so, as they knew (for once) what to expect from their dark arts prof. Professor Smith did not fail them. His first lecture of the term was as loopy as his teaching ever was.

            Gwen sat, trying to contain her laughter as she watched several third years roll their eyes when Professor Smith had turned his back. She didn't get to do much on her first day, but was pleased that so far things were going well. She had many ideas that she couldn't wait to try out when she began teaching herself.

            Harry approached her quietly after their lesson together. "Good afternoon Miss LeFey."

            "Good afternoon Harry." She said, her emotions as confused as ever. The situation couldn't have been more uncomfortable and she was grateful for Professor Smith's presence. Harry sighed, realizing he wouldn't be able to get her alone. He asked her about their first homework assignment; she explained it again. He thanked her and left.

            Professor Smith winked at her. She gave him a look of absolute disgust and he laughed out loud. "Looks like someone's hot for teacher."

            "Anthony." She said, her eyebrows crinkled in repulsion. She had taken to calling Mr. Smith by his given name of Anthony. He didn't really care what she called him. He had told her in their very first meeting: "you can call me shit-head if the mood takes you."

            He threw a fake punch at her arm. "Not plannin' on crossin' the line are ya?"

            "Absolutely not." Gwen said, blushing furiously. Of course she had thought of it, she'd thought of it since the moment she saw Harry wandering into the great hall. But a relationship with Harry was now impossible as long as he was a student and she a professor. Maybe it was for the best.

Part Three

            Gwen sat in Minerva's office shortly after the end of her first day. She was anxious to discuss her new dilemma and wanted the opinion of an older, wiser person than herself.

            "I'm glad you came to me first, Guenivere."

            "Well, I tend to keep you in mind when I'm thinking of doing something stupid. 'What would Aunt Minerva think.' And then I don't do it."

            Minerva grimaced at her. "How is Harry handling the situation?"

            "He's not. I'm not either. I really don't know what to do."

            "I would imagine he doesn't either. I think you've made an appropriate decision so far. It would be simply disgraceful to date a student."

            "No, that's what I thought." She said, picking at her fingernails. "It's just that I love him so."

            "What about Mr. Graves?"

            Gwen's jaw dropped. She didn't think that she knew about that. "How do you know about all of this?"

            "I have my sources." Her godmother replied dryly.

            "I love Graves too." She answered woodenly. "Which is very confusing."

            "Indeed."

            Gwen was looking down, her hand over her mouth, thinking. She looked up at her godmother, discussing relationships when a war was brewing. She sighed, realizing that life had to go on. You couldn't live cloistered in fear, and while she rarely did she often wanted to stop her little issues to take a look at the big picture. She couldn't just wade through her confusing emotions when wizards and witches everywhere were preparing for what they hoped would be the last battle.

            Minerva saw the depth of Gwen's thoughts. "John feels the same way you know. Why should he be cavorting about with me when both of our worlds are trying very much to avoid a war. He is what he likes to call himself, a soldier of peace. He wants as much as you or I to prevent any further losses because of differing opinions."

            "I don't understand why people can't just live together and celebrate differences."

            "It's not inherent in human nature Guenivere."

            "It is in mine. I just wish we could take care of each other, as people."

            "If only it were so simple."


	68. A Bad Reaction

Episode Sixty Eight

            Gwen decided the best way to deal with her problems was to face them. For perhaps the first time in her life she felt a strong sense of grasping her own destiny. After class with the seventh year students on Friday she asked Harry to have a conference with her.

            "I'd like you to meet me in my office after classes today." She said.

            "Of course." He replied. He wasn't quite sure what to make of it. He was excited and nervous and scared all at once, all jumbled together.

            When he arrived at her office the door was slightly ajar. Her name was stenciled on the window in gold letters: Assistant Professor G. LeFey. He pushed it further open and was relieved to see that Gwen was the only one occupying the small room, seated behind her desk with parchments rolled out in every direction.

            "Take a seat Harry." She said without looking up.

            He closed the door quietly behind him and eased into one of the two oak chairs that had been added to her office by a grumbling Filch earlier in the week. He watched as she finished grading the last roll of parchment. It was strange to be sitting across from the woman he loved in a professional capacity. She was being so damned professorial.

            "Can I ask why you asked me here?" He started.

            She looked up aiming to glance at him casually. She was wearing silver rimmed glasses that slipped down her nose. Her intent gaze over the top of them was not achieving the right effect. She slid them off and laid them on top of the parchments.

            "I wanted to speak to you about our relationship."

            _Finally, he thought. She saw immediately the effect her words had on him and she continued before he could speak. "It simply won't do."_

            He almost gagged. "Won't do?" He sputtered.

            She took a deep breath. She was the professional now, she needed to start acting like it. "I'm sorry Harry, but I'm your professor now."

            "Assistant." He corrected.

            "Regardless." She said softly. "We can't carry on like we used to."

            "We haven't carried on since before the summer."

            "I know, but you've been…" What was the right word? She didn't know. "Harry, this is so infuriating."

            "You're telling me." He said the shock finally setting in.

            "We can't act like we used to."

            "You can't act like you don't care."

            She looked away from him. This wasn't going at all as she had planned. "Listen Harry, you know damn well I care. It's just that it would be totally inappropriate for us to be seen together. You're my student. This complicates thing inexplicably."

            Harry looked at her stoic. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Gwen…" He started.

            She looked at him severally. The mention of her name was almost blasphemous. She hadn't meant to anger him, but her appearance did just that.

            "God damnit." He yelled. "We said we'd be friends. I agreed to that in lieu of having a romantic relationship with you. You said you needed time to sort things out. I figured the summer, when you didn't owl me once, had given you more than enough time to figure out what you wanted with your life. I guess I was mistaken. Don't worry Miss LeFey. I won't be bothering you again."

            He stormed out of her office, slamming the door behind him. Gwen dropped her head to the desk and tried to out pound the raging migraine attacking her temples. _Oh Harry, she thought to herself. __What have I done?_


	69. The Flame

Episode Sixty Nine

            Laying in her giant tub surrounded by kelly green, strawberry scented foam, Gwen tried to relax. The water was soothing to her muscles, easing the pressure in her head. Yet she couldn't ease the burden in her heart.

            She had found and lost family, alienated the man she loved and fallen out of contact with the other man she loved. She wanted to cry; she wanted to scream at the top of her lungs. Instead, she lazed in a tub filled with dread for the next day.

            That wasn't entirely true. She wasn't completely dreading tomorrow. Tomorrow held such promise. There was hope still, somewhere locked deep down in her soul. All she had to do was open the door.

            She still held that the Stag King had filled her with some kind of ancient magic while she was in his care. Even when things were at their worst, even when despair was eating away at her  there was and would always be that tiny speck of hope, that flame she had never been able to squelch.

            Not since her incident with the death eaters had she really felt it licking at her brain. But it was still kindling, sparkling merrily far below somewhere near the pit of her stomach. When she was uttering the ancient tongue of her people she didn't really understand what it was that made her so determined to show them what they had done.

            Now, away from the rush of that situation she could finally analyze the feeling. It was hope that they would change, hope that they would learn. Of course her mind argued that they probably hadn't and were well on their way back to Lord Voldemort to cause more mischief. They couldn't possibly understand that the intense pain they felt, the screaming filling their ears was how their victims had felt. Had they been perfectly upstanding citizens they would have felt nothing. Since they were henchmen of the dark lord they felt the pain they had inflicted on other wizards and witches during their tenure in his service.

            The flame in Gwen's soul was the light of the fey people. The light of knowledge, joy and everlasting hope. It was burning within her as it did in all fey. She had far more of their blood than she thought, though she suspected. The Stag King would not have taken such a particular interest in her unless he thought she could change the world, make a difference.

            She wanted to, she just couldn't figure out how.


	70. Abigail Burns and the Haircut

Episode Seventy

Part One

            Gwen stuck to herself for the first weekend of the term. She worked further on her proposal for the Ouranian Barbaric project, graded more homework (Professor Smith was more than happy to hand out essays every night of the week; his students were less than happy to complete them on time) and spent several hours flying about on her broom. Flying was still the best way to relax she thought.

            The sky was hazy blue, the grounds bright green. She floated about, just enjoying the lick of the wind ruffling her hair. She knew she'd be spending about three hours later than evening trying to untangle it, but it didn't matter at the very moment. She was free in the air, breathing it deeply into her lungs, just trying to appreciate the beautiful blue world.

            Two weeks of lessons later and Gwen had absolutely no time to contemplate what was going on outside of Hogwarts, let alone her own personal problems. That was the nice thing (and the drawback all at once) about being in a secluded school like this. The world beyond the grounds did not concern you until it knocked on your front door.

            The world climate was still shaky, people had taken to locking their doors in neighborhoods where no one had thought to do so before. She knew that there was some Order activity going on, but she was not asked to participate. She figured it was just as well. Putting that on top of all her other work would have been suicide.

            The rest of the faculty seemed a bit bogged down as well. Minerva took her daily tea with Gwen, but they had been cutting their visits very short. Professor Smith was either sleeping or working on Order projects so he was completely unavailable. Dumbledore was so busy he was only ever seen once a day, at the head table for dinner. And Professor Snape had taken a leave of absence, something Gwen thought was highly peculiar so early in the term. _But, she sighed, _all of the other faculty is in the Order, why not him_?_

            A small throat clearing from her office door interrupted her thoughts.

            Standing there was a tiny second year student. Gwen recognized her immediately. She was the quiet one in class, who never dared to raise her hand or speak. She didn't do so well on the last homework assignment. Gwen had been meaning to speak to her. She thought it best to attend to students having trouble right from the start, nip it in the bud before it became a real problem. The timid Hufflepuff girl looked at her nervously.

            "Is there something you'd like Abigail?"

            "Yes Miss LeFey." She spluttered.

            "It's ok." She said with an encouraging smile. "Why don't you take a seat?"

            The girl stumbled to one of the oak chairs and plunked down. She craned her neck around to take in her surroundings. Gwen noticed how observant the girl seemed to be, if not a bit overwhelmed. When she looked back to the desk she noticed that Gwen was looking back at her waiting.

            "I uh. I'm not doing very well am I?" She asked barely above a whisper.

            "You're last homework assignment wasn't very clear." Gwen said honestly. "Perhaps you can buddy up with another student and work together?" She suggested.

            "I would Miss LeFey, but…" She sighed, big tears swelling in her eyes.

            Gwen walked around the desk, took the seat next to Abigail and put an arm around the girl as she began to weep loudly. "It's ok." She soothed. "Get it all out."

            "It's just that _*sob* I __*sob* don't know anyone." She wailed._

            Gwen was reminded vaguely of a banshee's ear splitting, bone chilling cries. She sighed. Teaching was not an easy job, she knew that heading into this. But she never expected a screaming twelve year old in her office.

            When the girl had managed to stifle her moans and blew her nose several times with the handkerchief Gwen offered her, she tried to speak again, only to find that her voice was raw from all the wailing she'd just done.

            Gwen started the conversation again, giving her time to rest her vocal cords. "How is it that you don't know anyone yet? This is your second year isn't it?"

            "Yes." Abigail said miserably. "It's just hard to get to know people."

            Gwen smiled at her sympathetically. "It is, but you get better at it the more you practice. Why don't I help you?" She said.

            "How?" The girl whimpered.

            "I could introduce you to someone from your class, ask someone to tutor you. Then you'll have an excuse to get to know each other. Who knows, maybe you could meet some of their friends and hang out, go watch Quidditch together."

            Abigail's bottom lip trembled. She couldn't believe that a teacher could be so kind. She fought to keep back another wave of tears and jumped up to hug Gwen, who was a bit put off by the girl's sudden display of affection.

            After Abigail left she went through the list of second year Hufflepuff students. She wanted to find a student who was not only smart enough to tutor but someone who would be kind and friendly to her.

            She paused on Colby Morrison. He was bright, very advanced, but he seemed a bit stand offish in the classroom. Next she thought of Andrea Wilke. Andrea was very sweet and had the same timid tendencies as Abigail, but mixing timid with timid wouldn't necessarily help the girl to pop out of her shell. Ann Temple was too boisterous, she might frighten the girl away. Sean Williams was too "by the book." He would easily get frustrated with her.

            Finally she found the perfect student. Rose McGill. She was bright, popular and very friendly. Her classroom behavior was exemplary, always offering to help others. She was exactly the kind of student who would volunteer to tutor someone who needed help. And she was Abigail Burns' ticket to friendship.

Part Two

            Miss LeFey had called Harry to her office once more. She had noticed that his grades were steadily slipping from A's and B's to C's and D's and then he received his first F on a DADA assignment. Hermione and Ron had tried to help, Hermione especially, but they couldn't get him to concentrate.

            He would often grumble nonsensically when working on homework for this class. All of his other classes were fine, although he didn't participate as much as he used to. Even on the Quidditch field he had lost his sparkle. The other Gryffindors were worried. They had never seen Harry so sullen.

            He didn't want to speak with _her_. She was the whole problem. Every rotten feeling he was now trudging through was because of her. He could handle it over the summer, he had much bigger things to worry about (like cleaning the Dursley house every day until he nearly rubbed holes in the wood he was polishing). He wanted to be Gwen's friend, that is if he couldn't be more.

            But she had cut him off completely. This wound was deep and fresh, not something he could shake off easily. He wanted to forget about her, but it wasn't easy being stuck in her class. So he simply stopped paying attention in Defense lessons.

            He stood before her door. It was closed, the dim light in the hall glimmering as it hit the letters of her name. G. LeFey. He didn't want to ever hear that name again.

            He knocked twice, turned the handle and pushed the door open. Gwen was seated behind her desk, gazing at the Mona Lisa by the door. She looked worn under the burning light of the candles. Her eyes were red rimmed and her hair was a little disheveled, as if she'd been pulling at it.

            He sat dazedly in a chair as the thought finally struck him. _Maybe she's taking this as badly as I am_. _She certainly didn't show it before now, but of course she couldn't_. Harry sighed and looked back up at her.

            She was trying so very hard to maintain her composure. It wasn't easy being professional in the face of great emotional attachment. Hurting Harry wasn't something she liked to do, but unfortunately it was something she did well.

            She breathed slowly. "Harry, your grades have been slipping and Professor Smith thought it best that I speak to you."

            "I know." He said, looking at his hands. He too was aiming to remain casual and business-like. "I'll study harder." He said softly.

            "Harry, I know how you feel. Please understand, I know. But there's no point wasting away in your grief."

            He looked deeply into her eyes and blinked when he couldn't bear to look anymore. She wanted so badly to bear her soul to him again and he wanted to be there for her. He reached his hand timidly across the desk and brushed her fingertips with his.

            She didn't curl away like she used to when he made her nervous. 

Part Three

            Rose McGill was very willing to help. Gwen didn't explain the situation verbatim, but she slid enough hints into the conversation that Rose would get the point. She saw to it that she  would meet with Abigail twice a week and offered them her office at their disposal.

            "That's ok." Rose grinned. "I think we'll be ok in the common room."

            Gwen grinned back. "Thanks for all your help."

            "My pleasure Miss LeFey."

            But Abigail was not to be the main concern of the day. Malfoy's gears had been cranking since the opening feast and he was finally putting one of his plans into action.

            During DADA lesson with the Slytherins Gwen was being particularly helpful to Professor Smith. It was a rather difficult lesson to get through, involving complicated theories that the students were sure to confuse. She was at his elbow the entire time, offering up any suggestions that might help the students comprehend better.

            Anthony was more than grateful for her assistance and grinned widely at her. He patted her on the bottom, a source of much embarrassment, but she was certain that no students had seen him do so.

            Malfoy however, never stopped watching, waiting for his opportunity. "Potter not doing it for you anymore? Moved on to Professor Smith?" He whispered viciously.

            Gwen might have hauled up and slapped him had it not been for her immense personal restraint. This job was far more important to her than getting even with the little bastard. She gave him her nicest smile and replied "That is none of your business."

            When she turned away Malfoy stood quickly, making sure that Professor Smith's back was turned. He yanked on her long ginger ponytail and with a tap from his wand had cut most of it off. Gwen whirled on him, this was the last straw.

            "How dare you." She fumed.

            Professor Smith ran to the rescue. "Mr. Malfoy I suggest you take your seat and desist in the harassment of my assistant. Eighty points will be taken from Slytherin house and if it happens again you will serve a detention." He turned to Gwen and quietly added: "why don't you take the rest of the lesson off?"

            She smiled gratefully at Professor Smith and counted her blessings that Malfoy would no longer be a student when she became a teacher. After class she waltzed over to his office and approached him with a hand extended. "Thanks Anthony."

            "Ah no sweat." He said, clasping her hand in a peculiar hand shake. He was trying to get her to snap thumbs with him as he pulled his hand away. He succeeded, and Gwen couldn't help but laugh. "Sometimes ya g-g-gotta let shit slide and other times ya g-gotta put your foot down. This was one of those boot in the ass times."

            Gwen was glad he didn't talk like that in front of students, but appreciative of his help nonetheless. He pulled what remained of her hair out of his pocket and handed it to her. "I probably should've given the little wretch a detention."

            "It's just hair." She said, tossing it into the waste bin. "It'll grow back."

            "It looks nice short, you carry it well." He said as she tucked a strand behind her ear. She had spent the rest of the lesson in her office with her own wand, trying to even out the strands until her hair rested in a soft bob an inch above her shoulders. She smiled, wondering how she would explain the hair cut to Minerva.

Part Four

            Many students complimented Gwen on the new hairstyle, much to Malfoy's chagrin. He thought that if anything would upset a girl it would be losing her hair. Gwen however, rose to the occasion and felt that Malfoy had done her a great service.

            "It took too long to dry anyway." She laughed with Minerva over tea.

            "Heavens knows, he could have done worse." The older woman scowled. "However I would've taken away more than eighty points for such an offense."

            "I think Anthony was right." Gwen said. "He didn't actually put me in harm's way, he just saved me a trip to the salon."

            "I'm surprised that you're taking this so lighthearted."

            "I think Malfoy just needs a little patience. He can't be all bad."

            "A little patience and a weeks worth of detention with Mr. Filch."

            Gwen couldn't help but laugh. Minerva sounded so serious. "How are things with John?" She said abruptly, changing the topic before her godmother could lecture her on taking things seriously.

            "Good. He writes often now that school's started. It would be simply impossible to get him on school grounds, so letters are all we have." She sighed, a faraway look in her eyes.

            "I know how you feel." Gwen said. "I had another talk with Harry."

            "After your first meeting went so poorly?"

            "Well, I figured he needed time to adjust. I certainly did. But his grades were slipping badly. This meeting went much better. He's improved quite a bit. I think he understands now."

            "That's good." Minerva replied, sipping her tea.

            When Gwen returned to her office she bumped into Abigail in the hallway. The timid girl had a sparkle in her eye that hadn't been there in the previous weeks. She smiled brightly at Gwen and whispered conspiratorially. "Your plan worked."

            Gwen winked at her. "Glad to hear it."

            Abigail rushed off down the hall as Rose McGill turned the corner. The two girls linked arms like old pals and started giggling furiously. Gwen was glad to see that at least one of her ideas was going well.


	71. Restless Holidays

Episode Seventy One

Part One

Weeks rushed by, leaving Gwen feeling like the term had ended before it had really begun. Malfoy was unusually sullen in DADA lessons and she prayed it would be awhile before he tried a new stunt. She was certain it wouldn't be during class. Harry on the other hand improved a great deal and was back to his usual self.

The snow fell just before Christmas break. It was enchanting the way it clung to Hagrid's cabin and made it look like a giant gingerbread house, settled on the edge of the vast lawns. It was her first break since she had begun teaching. She would of course remain at Hogwarts for the holidays and help to watch over the students that decided to stay. She was just straightening up her classroom after a rough practice of a holiday sketch she was putting together for the Christmas feast.

She missed theatre so and some of the students were actually enthusiastic about putting something together. She almost laughed at the idea of a drama club at Hogwarts, but the idea was so intriguing it couldn't fail. She was bent over, picking up a piece of parchment when she heard a long and low whistle.

She turned and found herself looking at Graves. He was thinner than she ever thought possible seeing as how he was already emaciated looking. His tall frame thinned him out quite a bit and he never looked like he had enough to eat. His eyes were pale, their deep, dark blue shade subdued. His skin was sallow, almost jaundiced. His long hair was disheveled looking, which worried her immediately. It wasn't like Graves not to groom. He had been to hell and back.

She didn't know what to say to him. The words were failing her for perhaps the first time in her life.

"Hi." He said softly.

She wrapped him in a hug, still speechless.

"You look good." He said, stroking her short hair with his bandaged hands. He kissed the top of her head and gave her his best smile.

"What happened to you?" She finally managed to splutter, pulling away from him.

He jerked his bruised face into a lop-sided grin. "Nothing I can't handle."

"You look like hell." She said all the humor drained from her voice. He couldn't laugh this off, she wouldn't let him. "Your hands?"

"Just a burn. It's nothing. It doesn't even hurt anymore."

"Where have you been?"

"I've been doing work for Dumbledore."

"It wouldn't happen to involve dragons would it?"

"I can't say, top secret." He said, smiling again.

"Graves." She started.

"Don't." He said plainly. "I know what you're going to say and nothing's going to change my mind. My work is very important to the Order."

"The Order of the Phoenix?"

He nodded. She didn't know he had joined.

"You're going to put yourself in harm's way again, aren't you?" She asked.

"Don't I always?" He laughed. He usually only put himself in danger for her benefit. "How about you?"

"Just teaching, although Dumbledore says that it's as important as what everyone else is doing."

"It is. You're preparing the next generation of wizards and witches to pick up the banner if we should fail. And from what I hear, you're doing an excellent job."

She looked down. There was a glint in her eye that he didn't like. "You're not going to rush off and do something stupid?" He asked.

"You don't have to worry about me. I've learned a lot about responsibility and consequence these past few years. I won't be making any hasty decisions anytime soon."

"You want to run off to battle though, don't you?"

She looked at him levelly. How much should she tell him? "I just feel restless." She sighed.

"Gwen, this is no time to get restless. You're needed here and whether or not you feel important doesn't matter. You don't have to always be the hero. You can just be a part of the larger movement trying to end the war."

She huffed. "Don't treat me like a five year old Corwin."

"Then don't act like one. Be the responsible adult you pretend to be." He gave her a severe look that reminded her vaguely of Minerva. She looked away from him and when she returned her gaze to where he was standing he was gone.

"Damnit." She said, pounding her fist on the desk nearest her.

Part Two

            The welcome back dinner had been delicious, prepared by some of the finest and most obedient house elves. The after dinner entertainment had been less so, watching his father move his stockpile of illegal goods from one hiding spot in the house to another. Lucius always got wind of Ministry raids well in advance. He was usually prepared with a plethora of new places to hide his dirty little secrets.

            Sitting in one of his father's giant, black leather bound chairs Draco looked moderately sullen.

            His father continued his pile moving and Draco huffed. He couldn't get his attention, couldn't pay him enough to really talk to him instead of barking out orders and making him look like a poorly groomed lap dog.

            He grit his teeth. His mother, Narcissa stood thin-lipped at the arch to the hallway. Her arms were folded across her slight chest and she looked as if she smelt sour milk. _Home for the holidays,_ he thought numbly. _What I wouldn't do to be back at Hogwarts_.

Part Three

            The rest of the break was strange for Gwen. In between alternating thoughts of everything Graves had said and her own desire to do something she felt worthwhile, she had finished her lesson plans for teaching Ouranian Barbaric.

            Professor Trelawney was not so anxious to help, but Gwen buttered her up with flattery. If it worked for Olympe it might work for Sibyll. She was correct in her assumption. Soon Trelawney was working on methods to scry for new words and they would present their proposal to Dumbledore on the afternoon of Christmas Eve.

            She felt certain that Dumbledore would agree to the project because it could be used as a secret code language for the Order. But there was a slight problem with that. Some of her students were sure to have death eaters in the family and if they knew what the project was really for they might just let something slip to their parents. Maybe she could make it an extra credit project on the side for students that Dumbledore, Trelawney and herself approved ahead of time.

            She hummed softly to herself while gathering her notes. As she stood she bumped her elbow on the wall and stumbled back dazed into her desk. Her office was small and she was getting a bit clumsy with everything she had on her mind.

            There was a knock on her door. There was Graves again, standing in the door frame. She thought he had left after their last visit.

            "Corwin?" She said, unable to disguise the surprise in her voice.

            He smiled at her. "I couldn't leave angry." He explained, taking a seat before her desk.

            She sat back down and looked over at him.

            "I'm sorry." He said.

            "Me too." She said, her voice thin. She had been thinking a lot and maybe what he had said was true. Maybe teaching was more important than being out in the field. "I just feel so useless here. I know, I know." She said quickly at the imperious look he shot her. "Teaching is important. I just don't feel like my skills are being used."

            "They are." Graves said incredulously. How could she not see it? "Dumbledore told me about your Ouranian Barbaric project."

            "He told you?" She asked. The project hadn't even been approved yet.

"Dumbledore trusts me." He said bracingly.

"I don't doubt that Corwin, but…"

"But nothing." Corwin interrupted. "I shouldn't even show you." He said, rolling up the sleeve of his robe. He turned over his arm and Gwen gasped in shock to see the Dark Mark resting there in deep red ink.

"Why?" She said.

"Because they know Snape's working both sides. They don't know that about me, not yet."

"You'll have that for the rest of your life." She said quietly.

"It's worth it, knowing that my work might allow you and everyone else here to live a little longer."

"Graves…"

"Gwen we've had this discussion before and it ended badly. I don't want to leave here angry at you in case…" He trailed off. He hadn't really thought of the possibility of death before now. "In case I don't see you again." He finished firmly.

            She breathed deep. She wanted so badly to explain to him everything going through her head at that very moment, but she couldn't. Words were once again failing her and it was because of his presence.

            He sighed, stood and opened his arms, waiting for her. She stepped into them eagerly. He was sacrificing so much for her safety, for the cause. He kissed her forehead softly, grazed them down to her cheek and then pressed his lips to hers. Instead of protesting like she wanted to, she melted into him.

            He pulled back slowly. "Even if I never get to have you Gwen." He said knowingly, "I'll have had this kiss." He stepped out of the office and out of her life, braving the terrifying world outside of Hogwarts once again.


	72. Sort of Kneeling

Episode Seventy Two

"Your mother?" Harry asked quietly gazing at the gold frame on her desk. He had wandered in to her office after classes on Monday afternoon. It was the first day back, and while Gwen didn't really need to be in her office she thought she might just relax a bit and flip through her photo album from Phillipe before dinner, which was still lying open on her desk, the people captured in celluloid still dancing merrily.

Harry was regarding the framed photo. He recognized the subtle resemblance between the two women, the soft rounded curve of the jaw, the bright eyes, the button nose. The man in the frame with her had to have been her father, the soft, ginger-brown hair resting in short waves on his head, the same bright mischievous smile.

There were two other people in the frame, a tall thin woman with no resemblance to Gwen at all and another man, with his arm wrapped around her waist. He looked like the other man, but younger. They must have been brothers.

"Yes. My mother, father, Aunt Ann and Uncle George." She answered, giving the frame a loving look.

Harry looked at her. He wasn't sure where he was going with this conversation, but he had to start it before it took a definite direction. "How's Graves?"

"He's not in the best shape." Gwen added curiously. "Why?"

"I saw him walking away from your classroom the other day. I didn't think he'd come back to Hogwarts."

"Me either. But Corwin was never one for procedure. I just can't believe he'd be so stupid."

"What do you mean?"

"He's risking his life by contacting me. I shouldn't say more than that, but he is working with the Order and... It's not safe here anymore, Harry. I would have thought you'd know that."

"He must love you a lot to come here and risk his life like that."

"He does."

"And you still love him?"

"Why are we talking about this?"

"Because for the first time in our entire relationship I want to."

She looked at him softly. Whether or not she wanted to admit it he was growing up too. If he wanted to openly discuss things then she should be willing to as well. _That's what mature people do in relationships, she reasoned. "Ok. Where do you want to start?"_

Harry exhaled sharply. He'd been holding his breath, waiting for her to speak and let it all out in one huge woosh. She smiled at him and he smiled back. "I just wanted to know where our relationship stands right now."

"It's sort of kneeling Harry." She said bemused.

He rolled his eyes, but he agreed. "How does he figure into this?"

            Gwen lowered her gaze and found herself staring at her shoes. She was wearing a pair of Converse All Stars that she had bought at a little shoe shop in France. They had cost her a fortune, but she had wanted some since she had owned four pairs in the dream world. She sighed heavily, things were so much simpler in the dream world.

            Graves was the only man who really intrigued her there, but more often than not she would get a stupid little crush on someone else and ignore his affections. And when she would come back to him he would do the same, finding some flighty girl to distract him. There were never two people more meant for each other and Gwen knew it, but they had really terrible timing.

            "Harry," she began. "He figures into everything in my life. He's more a part of me than anything else. As for what will happen, who can say? I just hope he makes it out of this alive."


	73. The Ouranian Barbaric Project

Episode Seventy Three

            Dumbledore finally approved the Ouranian Barbaric project, which sent Gwen into a tailspin of work. He had agreed that the prospect of allowing any students in would be risky, and so she decided to offer it as an extra credit project which only seventh year students in good standing could apply for.

            With the help of Dumbledore and Trelawney she sorted through over forty applications and narrowed the main research group down to ten, with eight backup candidates. Their first meeting was to take place in Professor Trelawney's tower classroom on the seventh floor.

            The main ten and Gwen met on the landing and climbed the silver ladder up into the hazy classroom. Gwen felt her memory traveling back four years. The reeking scent of incense hadn't changed at all. The dim, reddish light, the heavy window treatments. Everything about Madame Trelawney's classroom remained the same and Gwen remembered ruefully the very day she decided to quit divination.

            Of course, she hadn't left until the end of the term , she dropped it after a long conversation with Sibyll in her office.

            "I just don't think divination is for me." Gwen said boldly. Even at fourteen she'd been a handful, more than willing to tell a teacher off if she felt the need.

            Sibyll gazed at her through her thick glasses, her gauzy, green shawl drooping on her shoulder. "Guenivere, I see that divination will play a key role in your future."

            "That may be, but I just don't have the patience for it." The bristling young girl replied. She was right. She had the gift, but she couldn't bear to sit all day and channel. She just didn't have the tolerance for it.

            "Very well." Sibyll said coolly.

            _Perhaps, Gwen thought, __Trelawney had taken my quitting the subject as a personal offence. _Perhaps that's why she wasn't very keen on helping out at first_. Good thing Gwen had attained a measure of patience since her fourth year. Otherwise she couldn't have sat through two hours of flattery and tea to get Sibyll to help._

            She shook her head, throwing off the dazed feeling the warm room left her in. She smiled, cleared her throat and began. "As you all know this is a very important project and I'm very enthusiastic about the ten of you."

            Harry Potter was among them, even though he'd faked all of his divination homework for the past three and a half years he proved to be one of the more qualified candidates. Gwen felt that if he only concentrated enough he would find scrying simple work. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil of Gryffindor were also members of the research team; they had both received glowing reviews from Madame Trelawney.

            Lisa Turpin represented Ravenclaw along with Terry Boot, Mandy Brocklehurst and Padma Patil. Susan Bones, Hannah Abbot and Sally-Anne Perks represented Hufflepuff house. Divination seemed to be a fairly feminine gift in the seventh years at Hogwarts.

            Unsurprisingly, no Slytherins were chosen. All who had applied from that house had rather questionable backgrounds. Gwen sighed. She didn't want to let the sins of the father (or mother more often then not) prevent their children from working on such a project, but she wasn't willing to take the risk.

            Gwen continued. "Our main goal is to uncover enough words that they may be useful to the Order of the Phoenix."

            The students oh'd at this. They understood that Ouranian Barbaric was a relatively young magical language and they knew that Gwen had uncovered it. She alone knew the current vocabulary and soon all ten members would as well. However, they had not expected that their work would be aiding the Order of the Phoenix. This would become a source of pride for everyone involved on the project, and none of them would betray the Order. If all went well, everyone would be inducted as members before the end of term, or so Gwen hoped.

            She handed out ten pieces of parchment that she'd carefully copied herself. "These are the words that I remember. There are several that I've forgotten." She said, shaking her head as if to apologize. The list was two feet long, alphabetized with two columns. One was English to Ouranian, the other the reverse.

            "I haven't decided what other words we should attempt to scry for. I was hoping that you all would provide some input based on the list we have already."

            After an hour of suggestions and sorting through which words seemed more necessary than superfluous they had a working list of two hundred words they would spend the rest of term scrying for.

            As the research team climbed down the ladder Gwen smiled back at Madame Trelawney. "I think this is going to work." She said a huge grin spreading over her face.


	74. The Coincidence of the Stags

Episode Seventy Four

            Harry used his new status as a project member to visit Gwen's office regularly.

            On one sunny afternoon he was seated across from her, gazing at the way her shorter hair swished as she turned her head to look at the book shelf.

"You read almost as much as Hermione does." He said.

"You have to respect the written word. It's so powerful." She said, in awe as she stood and gingerly lifted a volume of poetry from the shelf. "There are some fabulous poems in here I'd like to translate into Ouranian."

"What for?" He frowned. "The language sounds so funny."

"That's just it, I think it would sound almost dignified in poetry."

He laughed as she flipped through the pages, trying to find her favorite poem. This particular book had been her first, a fifth birthday present from her father. Her mother had thought the gift ridiculous; what five year old could read college level poetry? But Henry LeFey didn't seem convinced that Gwen couldn't understand. He read her a new poem every night and he found that after a while she developed favorites and she'd ask him to read them over and over again.

Her most favorite had been the very first poem he had read out loud to her. It was about traveling over the sea, the hardships of the journey and the ending, coming out on the other side much better for the experience. She touched the page lovingly, happy memories springing into her mind.

Harry gazed at her, not sure what to say.

She looked up, surprised that he was looking at her so deeply. "It was from my dad." She explained, showing him the book. "This is the very first poem he ever read to me."

Harry smiled. "That's nice that you have something to remind you of him."

"Sort of like your dad's invisibility cloak. It lets you feel close to him."

"Yeah." Harry said, glad that she could understand the attachment he felt to that useful piece of cloth. "It's nice to know that I can connect to him still, even though he's gone."

Gwen was thinking about what she knew of Harry's torpid past. She had cried in the dream world when she read about the first successful Patronus he had conjured, the Stag, like his father. He was a lot like his father, even though he'd never been around him.

"Harry your dad was an animagus." Gwen said as if she finally understood something.

"How did you know that?"

"The books." She continued at the blank look on his face: "the books my mother made up in the dream world so that I'd be up to date on current events in the wizarding world."

"Oh." He said remembering vaguely that Gwen had explained this to him very early on in their relationship. "But how did she know?"

"I don't know about that. She was never very forthcoming with me and now that she's dead I'm certain there are things about her I'll never know."

Harry looked shocked by her casualness.

"It's ok Harry. I've made my peace with her." She looked up, a hopeful glint in her eye. "But something just struck me Harry. Your dad was a stag when he transformed."

"Yes?" Harry said, failing to see the importance of this fact.

"The faerie king is sometimes known as the Stag King. There has to be a connection." She exhaled heavily, chewing her lip in thought.

"Couldn't it just be a really big coincidence?"

"I don't believe in coincidence." She sighed. Ever since she'd read _The Celestine Prophecy _coincidence had lost its charm. She felt that there was a unifying force in the world and that every thing happened for a reason (although what reason exactly escaped her). Coincidence was a human word to explain something unexplainable. If there was a connection she would find it.

Harry frowned at her. "Well, I've got tons of work to do." He heaved a sigh and dragged himself to her office door. "I'll see you tomorrow."

She smiled in a distracted kind of way. "Night Harry."

As he exited he ran headlong into the last person he ever wanted to run into.

"Another student-teacher conference?" Draco asked, dripping with sarcasm as Harry closed the door to Gwen's office.

"And since when are you a gossip monger Malfoy?" Harry asked, a swaggering undertone to his voice.

"Feeling mighty confidant now that one of your girlfriends is on the staff?"

"Oh drop it Malfoy. You're just not worth the trouble tonight." He turned his back and sauntered off to Gryffindor Tower.


	75. Enter Adam Larkin, The Runes, and an Old...

Episode Seventy Five

Part One

            March arrived with blustery winds and heavy rainfall. The project was going well. Harry spent most of his time scrying now, much to the chagrin of Hermione and Ron who felt rather snubbed by their third musketeer. So much for one for all.

            The research team had uncovered nearly seventy words and Gwen was almost thinking of adding more to their list if they had time before the term ended. She was a little busy however to really think further on that idea or the coincidence of the Stags.

            She had her hands full with her first official Professor Smithless class. He was going to be just down the hall in his office in case of emergency, but this day was her day to forge ahead on her own. She was jittery and over excited. Her lesson plans shook in her hand as she tried to sooth her nerves. It was a good thing she wasn't drinking any coffee at breakfast, it would only make her quiver more.

            But Gwen would never have the chance to teach that day. An large screech owl swooped in as many others did to deliver the mail. This one veered for the head table and dropped a small package in Gwen's lap. She hadn't been expecting any packages and couldn't imagine where this one would have come from.

             The letter on top of the package was addressed to Miss Guenivere LeFey. She opened it gingerly, almost fearing something so formal. It read as follows:

            "_Dear Guenivere,_

            _Graves entrusted me with this package before his travels. _In the event that he could not return to give it to you himself he asked that I would do so_. __I am sad to report that he has perished as a result of those travels and therefore I am passing this package onto you._

            _Sincerely,_

            _Adam Larkin"_

            Gwen's vision blurred, her head reeling from the word: perished. She dropped the letter, didn't bother to open the package. It just couldn't be true. She knew that Corwin's work had been important as well as dangerous, but she never expected that he was in mortal peril.

            Her brow crinkled. Who was Adam Larkin? Could she trust his word? She had never met him, but she vaguely remembered Graves speaking about him on one occasion. He was a Slytherin, in the same year as Graves.

            She felt a hand on her shoulder, lost in her thoughts once again. It was Professor Smith and with a gentle nod she was out of her seat and trailing down the hall and up the stairs to her office. He followed with her package and letter in hand, Minerva not far behind him.

Part Two

            Gwen sat with her head in her hands, elbows leaned over her desk. She was too shocked to cry, too angry to respond to any consoling. She could only think again and again, _why has this happened?_

            As if taking her father and then her mother wasn't enough. As if torturing her, Harry, Graves and many other wizards and witches wasn't enough. As if the entire world in agony wasn't enough for Lord Voldemort. There was a quiet rage brewing in Gwen's belly and it would only be a matter of time before it swelled close enough to her heart to spurn her on to action.

            Minerva and Anthony sat silently in the chairs across from her. They didn't dare speak or move until she made some signal that she knew they were there. She cleared her throat, lifted her head from her hand and sighed.

            "Do you know if this is true?" She said, pushing the letter to Anthony. She couldn't bear to say it out loud.

            Anthony read quickly and passed the parchment to Minerva. He shook his head. "No, I've heard nothing."

            Minerva looked between them. Before Gwen's package drop she had received her usual mail, a copy of the Daily Prophet morning edition. She had been reading a headline about a wizard's body being discovered. She pulled the copy out of her robe pocket and looked very closely at the picture.

            She didn't have a photographic memory, but there were some students whose faces were very unforgettable. Corwin Graves had one of those faces. Minerva's hopes fell as she recognized the lifeless corpse on the cover of the newspaper. She passed it to Gwen, unable to make the words work for her.

            Gwen inhaled deeply as she reviewed the evidence before her. She couldn't deny it any longer. Corwin Graves, like many wizards before him was dead and for what price? How much did his life cost to the Order? Was his work so important that he had to die for it?

            There was nothing left to do but open the package resting on the edge of her desk. She reached out a timid hand, pulled back the plain brown paper and tore at the tape, some of her anger relieved on the task of ripping at the flimsy wrapping.

            She opened the lid.

Part Three

            Gwen stared in disbelief. She was staring at the rune set she had made in the dream world at Graves suggestion. It was perfectly preserved, the misshapen stones laying in a heap at the bottom of the box. They weren't very big, didn't take up very much space.

            Included was a sparkling blue satchel that looked as if it had been hand made. She looked at the liner, it was maroon with a tiny black snowflake residing at one edge of the fabric. The drawstrings of the bag were blue silky ribbon. She recognized it as her own handiwork, another creation she had painstakingly made in the dream world.

            There was a note at the bottom of the box, scratched in Graves own hand. She opened it with a hunger, a fervent curiosity overtaking her grief.

            "_Dear Gwen,_

            _I'm either dead or disappeared if you've received this letter. _Adam has been given my full seal of approval and if you ever stop ogling Potter, I'd suggest dating him_. _He's like me, but nicer. In any case you probably have some questions for me_._

            _Like how did I find these if they were made in the dream world? _Well, if you remember properly your mother made a doppelganger of me in that world_. __The problem with doppelgangers is that they often share memory and whether or not she intended to, I was starting to remember things that had never happened in this world._

            _It took some pretty strong magic but I found this dream world. _It doesn't seem possible, but just because it existed in your mind doesn't mean it never existed at all_. _The fabric of dreams is pretty strange stuff_. _I waded through and found these, remembering how proud you were of them_. __They brought us together in that world. __Had you stayed there I might have had a chance with you._

            _But that's in the past and I forgive you any schoolgirl obsession you have on the hot jock. __I'm kidding, don't tell Harry I said that. __It took even more magic to bring them back to our world, but it was worth it. _It was worth it just to know that you'll have these in your possession and that because of them, you'll never forget me_._

            _Love and honor,_

_            Corwin Graves_"

            Anthony cleared his throat. "Classes are about to start."

            Gwen nodded.

            "Why don't you take a personal day, Guenivere." Minerva said softly. "I'm sure Professor Smith can handle his own classes."

            "I was going to teach today." She protested weakly.

            "You can teach tomorrow." Anthony smiled. "Take some time to recover."

            Gwen watched as they trailed out of her office. She turned back to the box in her lap. She caressed the stones one last time before placing them one by one into the homemade bag. When she had finished she stowed the package in her top left drawer. She folded both letters carefully and placed them there as well.

            She stood carefully, straightened her robes and walked slowly to her bedroom. A few students straggled on the way to class and looked at her fearfully, as if she would take points away from their houses, but were left to whisper in confusion as she floated past them, not noticing.

            She leaned against her door once it had clicked shut. A deep sobbing moan escaped her chest and she slide down to a ball on the floor. She lay there in a heap as the despair spread over her. It ached sharply, reminding her acutely of the Cruciatus Curse.

            She couldn't breath, she couldn't talk, she couldn't move. She couldn't do anything except lay there as the anger, confusion and depression washed over her again and again. It would be hours before she could muster the energy to crawl into bed. It would be hours before she could fall into a fitful sleep. It would be days before she would get out of bed again, and then only to close the curtains because the light was blinding her.

Part Four

Gwen had lost track of the days that she'd been lying in her room. For all she knew it could've been a year. It felt like that much. There had been many thoughts repeating in her head, over and over. They formed into a chain, a sort of rosary that she repeated to herself daily and nightly.

Perhaps it was the depression she'd fallen into. Perhaps it had been the lack of human contact, or the food she couldn't bring herself to eat. Perhaps it had been simply an illusion in her dazed state. But that night someone was sitting at the end of her bed.

"Hello Gwen." He said softly. His voice was deep and beguiling. Many years prior that voice would have calmed and comforted her. Tonight it struck a chord of fear she could hum to.

"No." She said softly, her mind muddy. "It can't be."

"You didn't think I'd want to miss this. The most important moment of your life."

"What are you talking about?" She said, she kept closing and opening her eyes hoping the illusion would disappear as quickly as it had come. She shook her head slowly, trying to wake out of the stupor.

"The moment when you decide the path you'll take from here on out."

She was starting to gain a sense of what was happening. Logic was starting to come back to her. "There is no path." She started. "Just a jumble of decisions. No one decision is that powerful."

Henry LeFey smiled at his daughter. She was too sharp for her own good.

Gwen woke in a feverish sweat. The room was humid, the sun peeking through the blinds, dawn's first attempt to wake people up. She stood slowly and proceeded to the small basin on her dresser. She splashed cool water over her face and as she toweled dry she started to remember.

Had she been dreaming, or had her father been sitting at the end of her bed?

Part Five

            When Gwen didn't return to teach the next day, or the next, Professor Smith understood. All the faculty had been alerted that she was in mourning because of the death of a close friend. The students didn't understand, but they didn't need to. She would come back, just when was the question.

Harry was more than concerned. He had stopped by her office, hoping to catch her, but to no avail. He was surprised when Professor Trelawney took over the Ouranian Barbaric project, as if it had been planned that way. He decided to seek Gwen out in her room.

He knocked and knocked over and over, but she would not respond. It was if she had been trapped in the Carcer Tristitia Curse. She was so deeply locked inside the Cell of Sadness that she could not respond to his knocking, if she even heard it at all.

"I don't know what to do Professor." Harry whispered to Dumbledore in his office. He had been given the password to the gargoyle this year (it was an Order privilege) and so used it for the first time. He needed to talk to someone. "She won't come out of her room, she's just holed up in her grief."

"Perhaps," said Dumbledore, a sparkle in his eye, "you should knock harder."

Harry looked at Dumbledore as if he'd already done that, indeed he had. But he would try again anyway. He shuffled down to her door and pounded again, louder and harder than before. He pounded until his hands bruised. If he kept it up much longer his hands would be so swollen he wouldn't be able to catch the Snitch at their next Quidditch match.

He stopped, _this isn't working. He decided to try talking to the door instead. "Gwen, come out please. I want to talk to you." He heard a shifting inside, as if she were moving around, trying to decide whether or not to respond. "Gwen, please. I miss you."_

He waited a few moments, the seconds ticking by slowly. If she was moving before she had stopped. Maybe she didn't want to talk. _Well_, Harry thought, _too bad. He redoubled his efforts._

"Gwen, you once told me that there was no point wasting away in your grief." Harry yelled, his head pressed against the door straining to hear any movement within.

"I know Harry." She replied to the door, using her voice for the first time in days. She was surprised at the hoarse sound, the burning sensation in her throat caused by all the tears. "I'll be out in a moment."

She tidied herself up as best she could, straightening her wrinkled robes as much as she could manage without having to use any magic. Her face was puffy in the mirror, her eyes ringed with red. Her hair was a tangled mess that she didn't dare comb through. She grabbed a dark bandana and covered her head.

She thrust herself out of the door and into the pale light of the hall. Harry looked at her deeply. He had never seen her so distraught, but he felt that her loss was so much the greater. Her best friend had been killed by the same people who had killed the rest of her family.

The dark times were just beginning and braver wizards than Gwen were quailing already.

Harry didn't dare ask her how she was. He knew she was a mess. Instead her offered her some coffee and ushering her back into her room, a seat.

"No thanks." She said to the coffee (which was good because he didn't have any) and curled up on the velvet covered bench below the window. Harry sat next to her, taking her hand gently in his. He wasn't sure that's what she wanted, but he wanted it and he thought it might help. She squeezed his fingers gently and braved a smile for him.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He suggested softly.

"A bit." She said. "I've been doing a lot of thinking. He was so much braver than I am and I don't often get scared. I just can't imagine life without him."

He gazed into her eyes noticing their color for the first time. They were light brown, almost tan rimmed with a dull orange that glowed brighter when she was feeling some strong emotion. She wiped a tear away with her finger and rested her cheek on her hand.

"He was such a loss to our side." She laughed painfully. "It's so strange to think of someone you loved so dearly as a loss for your side." She looked at Harry desperately hoping he would understand.

He was very confused about his own feelings on the situation. Graves had proven to be a good friend, even in competition for the woman he loved. And now he was gone. He would no longer prove a distraction to Gwen, nor would he be there to razz Harry regularly. He knew he would miss the constant struggle. He couldn't have asked for a better opponent or ally for that matter.

"My grief is so different from yours Gwen. My parents died before I even knew to be sad about it and I've been carrying it inside of me for seventeen years. It's almost a numbness now, an old scar that aches sometimes." He sighed, rubbing his forehead. "But your grief is alive. It's raw and biting. You've lost both of your parents, an uncle and your best friend in the last eight years. You were old enough to know what grieving is. Your pain is like a wound that just won't close. It won't scar because it will never heal."

She looked at him. "It will heal Harry. You'll help me." She closed her eyes. The burden, the pain she'd been carrying around had lightened considerably. "I have something to show you." She said softly.


	76. Wizard Photography

Episode Seventy Six

Part One

            Gwen ushered Harry down to her office and showed him the rune set she had stowed away in her desk. "He's amazing." She said breathlessly. "Was amazing." She added with a downtrodden note in her voice.

            She settled into her chair as he examined the rocks and noticed that Minerva had left her copy of the Daily Prophet on her desk. She looked at the picture of Graves' motionless face. It twitched and he opened his eyes. He looked out of the picture like a man haunted.

            "Harry, do you know anything about wizard photography?"

            "No, why?"

            "Graves' picture just moved."

            "I thought all figures in pictures moved."

            "Even dead ones?"

            "Dunno." He said looking at her mildly.

            The article had merely stated that he had been found dead down Knockturn Alley and was to be buried in the plot his parents had bought for their family. There was much speculation into why he had died and who had brought it about, but no firm answers.

            She frowned. Something about this just didn't seem right.

Part Two

            Gwen asked around about wizard photography, but no one seemed to know the answer. That is until she asked Professor Smith. He smiled at her kindly. He'd noticed the deep, dark circles cupping her eyes. He assumed she was still grieving. He did not know of the dreams that had been haunting her, or her strung along hopes of Graves life. "I don't know anything about photography, but my friend Andrew would. He never leaves home without his camera. I'll see if I can get in touch with him."

            He turned, scratched a quick note on his desk and turned back to her. "Now, are you ready to teach?"

            She laughed. She'd been teaching for two days now, since she'd mostly recovered from her bout of depression. She was pleased to see that Draco was (oddly enough) on his best behavior. The Ouranian Barbaric project was forging right ahead (they had added 20 new words in the two weeks Gwen had been holed up in her room) and things in general seemed to carry on where they had left off.

            After classes Gwen sat, idling in her office, trying not to look at the picture of Graves whose eyes were now closed and the image hadn't moved again. He looked eerie, laid out on the cobblestone sidewalk of the Alley, captured in black and white newsprint, still and cold.

            She took out her rune bag and reached inside. The very first rune she touched felt electric. She pulled it out and laid it on her desk. It was Gyfu, the rune for union. The next she pulled was Tyr, the rune of strength and regulation. The next rune was Sowelo or Sigel, the rune of the sun.

            She figured it was about Harry. Gwen had never been wrong when divining something before. This would be the first. Of course, she wouldn't realize that until she was so deluded with fantasies about what could be that she would have to shake herself out of the dream she had built up in her head.

            Gyfu stood for an old bond, and a reunion of that bond. Tyr stood for strength and stubbornness; if she'd been thinking clearly she would have remembered that Graves often adorned himself with this rune especially during outdoor activity. Sowelo stood for something that had been shrouded in darkness to come to light.

            It would take her awhile to realize this. In the meantime she was so deeply within her daydreams that she didn't hear the knock on her door. Anthony swept in and handed her some sparkly powder. "Come on." He nodded.

            She followed him reluctantly. "Where are we going?"

            "My office. It has a fireplace."

            She looked at him curiously. He answered immediately. "Andrew. He's just going to pop his head in and give you a quick answer."

            She nodded. Anthony stoked the fire with his wand and waited, looking at his pocket watch. "He said half-past four." At that, he bade Gwen toss in the pile of shining sand. She did and was only a little surprised when a handsome head appeared sticking out of the flames. It had sea blue eyes, adorable rounded cheeks and a light stubble from not shaving.

            "Hey Tony!" Andrew said.

            "Drew, this is Gwen; Gwen, Drew."

            "Nice to meet you." She said. She wanted to shake his hand, but couldn't, as only his head appeared to be in the fireplace.

            "So, you have a photography question?" The head asked. The flames licking at it painted strange undulating shadows that made it difficult to concentrate on what he was saying.

            "Yes." She said after a moment.

            An half an hour later and Gwen was sitting in her room, thunderstruck. It couldn't be possible. She didn't dare hope. And yet, if what Andrew said was true…

Part Three

"You're edgy today." Harry observed quietly after lunch. He made it a habit now to drop something, or leave something behind so he had to run back to get it at the end of lunch. He was really just waiting for Gwen to amble down from the head table. He would walk her to her classroom and then saunter off to his.

He had noticed during breakfast that Gwen seemed antsy, as if she'd drunk one two many cups of coffee. During lunch he kept watching the way she'd drop her fork half-way to her mouth. It didn't look like she'd been able to eat anything, let alone get it close enough to her mouth to attempt doing so. She finally caught up to him, close to the door.

"Graves isn't dead." She stated, stopping before they had left the hall.

"What?" Harry nearly screamed, he was glad most of the other students had cleared the entrance hall and were now heading to their classes. "How?"

"I spoke to a photographer, a friend of Anthony. He said pictures of dead people don't move. Dead people can move in pictures taken of them while their living, but if anyone takes a picture of a corpse it won't budge. He takes freelance shots for the Ministry of Magic in America when they need photographic evidence of crime scenes. He's photographed a thousand dead wizards. They don't move."

Harry looked at her, trying to absorb the shock. "You're certain his picture in the Daily Prophet moved?"

"Just enough to make me believe it. Even his photographic image is pretty shrewd. It didn't move enough for anyone else to notice. And this morning's edition of the Daily Prophet confirms it. He's getting sloppy." She said abrasively. She thrust the Daily Prophet at him. He gazed at the photo gracing the cover. At first he didn't understand. It was a picture crowded with wizards and witches, struggling in the Gringott's lobby. A rumor had gotten out that there was going to be a run on the bank (which was completely impossible and sounded to Gwen like Project Mayhem activity); people flocked to the bank in droves trying to withdraw their funds. And then he noticed one person who wasn't amid the struggle. He was leaning back against the wall casual as could be. His hair was cropped close to his head, almost a boot cut. He was wearing old army fatigues under his open black robe. He looked relaxed in the midst of the frenzy.

It was Corwin Graves and he looked alive and well.


	77. Wading

Episode Seventy Seven

Part One

            Now, Gwen had only to wait.

            It was a matter of time before he appeared again. He always did it when she least expected. He would come charging up the lawns for whatever reason and Gwen would stare at him as if she were seeing a ghost. Even though she knew now that it was impossible for him to be a ghost. He'd have to be dead.

            She figured Graves was a smart boy. He wouldn't come so soon after the initial shock. No, because then she'd definitely arrange that ghost thing for him. She was angry enough to kill him.

            "I'll choke the ever loving life out of him." She snarled at the picture of him in the Daily Prophet (the living one of course).

            She had been overjoyed at first that he was alive. He was her best friend in the whole world and she had thought him dead for two weeks. And then she was nervous. If he had faked his death, which he obviously had, then something had to be terribly wrong. And then as the gears began to turn the nervousness morphed into anger.

            He hadn't kept her in the loop. He didn't bother to tell her that it was a hoax. The good sense Gwen was starting to develop had disappeared all together. She was in a furor.

            Even though she was in a vehement mood regarding Graves she told no one about his reappearance. She didn't think it safe just yet to reveal that he was alive to anyone besides Harry. And even he was a calculated risk on her part.

It seemed like everything was adding up, adding to a pile of emotional flotsam and jetsam that would take far too long to sort through. As she walked towards her office she felt a war waging in her head. She was fighting to keep all the emotions she had been bottling about her father inside her head. Before she knew what was happening her body was sagging against the wall, the battle in her head had taken precedence over walking.

Gwen was swooning.

"Hey there." Anthony said, catching her gently. "What's goin' on with you?" He added good naturedly.

"I've been having bad dreams. That's all."

"That's all? You look like death paid you a visit last night."

"It's just fatigue. It's nothing time and a good nap can't cure." She said with a winning smile. But that winning smile was set under two very deep purple circles under eyes that looked bleaker still in the dim light of the candles.

"Come on G-g-gwen, we've been colleagues for long enough that we can share our personal problems."

"As an adult, do you think I'll be wading through my parent's problems for the rest of my life?"

Anthony laughed. He patted her amiably on the shoulder. "I know exactly how you feel."

"Is that so?" She said, lightened by his humor.

"My dad was in some trouble a while back, asked if I c-c-could magically erase some of his records. I told him those records are the one thing that might level his head and that I wouldn't dare. If he already has trouble on paper, perhaps he won't c-c-cause more."

Gwen had to admit, Tony was pretty cool about stuff like that. And he seemed to stutter a whole lot more when in private. She had never mentioned his speech impediment before because she thought it would be rude, but then she realized that he didn't care.

"You seem to stutter more when you're not in front of students." She said.

"Yeah. It's because I'm more c-c-comfortable around you."

"Huh?"

"Well, I'm c-c-comfortable enough that I don't have to concentrate on sounding like an idiot. So the stutter k-k-kind of goes into over-drive."

She laughed and he smiled brightly. After a pause she continued. "But the thing is Tone, your parent's are living still. Mine are dead."

Anthony looked concerned for the briefest of moments. If she was having dreams about her parents there could be dark magic at work. Then again they could just be bad dreams. "What kind of dreams?"

"Like nightmares but not so scary. Just queer. They've all been dreams, definitely. But it seems odd just now. Why would I be having recurring dreams about my dad all of a sudden?"

Part Two

            A long talk with Anthony didn't resolve any of her issues. She went to bed knowing full well that at some point her father would be sitting with her, talking her late into the night with vague, confusing messages that her sleep deprived mind could no longer understand. Pairing that with the knowledge (for now she was certain) that Graves would return to her left her feeling completely empty after having been completely full.

After a long day of teaching classes on her own she stumbled into her office, closing the door. She dropped her books on the edge of her desk and was about to settle into her chair before she realized someone was sitting there.

And there he was, lounging in her chair as if he belonged there.

"Long time no see." She said bitterly.

"I had to hide Gwen." Graves replied softly. "It was getting too hard."

"What do you mean?" She spat searching his face for the truth. It was haunted, as it had been in the picture. His eyes were dead looking, the blue fading to grey. He didn't smile, he couldn't. He could only look away from her anger.

"I can't be what I'm not. I only did it because I loved you."

"Did what and what kind of a reason is that to do anything?"

"Did what I did for the Order. And it's not a good reason. That's why I tried to get out. You don't know what it's like on the other side Gwen. Once you're in you can't get out. It's not as easy as Snape made it seem. I couldn't play the double operative anymore. And there's only one way to get out, that's to be dead."

"You faked your death because it was too hard?"

"It's so easy for you to say that. You've been afforded the opportunity to hide behind a desk."

"You fucking bastard." She said heatedly. "You think I'm happy with this situation?"

"Then why don't you do something about it?"

She looked away from him. Even when he was being mean he was being honest. She looked back at him, her eyes shaded. "Do you know how I felt about your death?"

His fierceness faded instantly. It was replaced with guilt and shame, mixed in with a bit of melancholy. "I am sorry about that." He said quietly.

"Sometimes I feel like you don't respect me. You don't care enough to tell me something like this."

"Don't you even play that card again."

"It's the truth. Why didn't you think to tell me?"

"I couldn't tell anyone." He said plainly. "I couldn't risk anyone else knowing that I was still alive."

After a moment of heavy silence Gwen spoke, much quieter. "What did they do to you?"

"I'd rather not go into detail just yet." He said, the pain visible in the deep lines around his jaw and brow.

"You're risking a lot by coming here." She said.

"It's worth it this time."

"Why this time?"

"Because I love you." He rushed. He continued on a much quieter note, "I've always loved you."

            She paused. Something was wrong, she could tell. "What am I in danger again?" She said, trying to lighten the mood with a wry smile. She plopped into one of the oak chairs across from him. He looked at her, fully taking in every little detail of hair and skin.

            Her anger had subsided enough that he wasn't afraid of her backhand anymore. Her hair had grown since he'd last seen her, it was skimming her shoulders now and fell a little wavier than usual. She looked worn and tired. He noticed how her eyes had a fire to them, a leaping dancing flame, but she didn't seem to notice. She was halfway between humor and frustration, the two fighting for dominance. She wanted to laugh out loud and then she wanted to break something, back and forth.

            "You're always in danger Gwen. But so is Hogwarts with you. They're planning a raid."

            "Of the school?" She said, her incredulousness getting the better of her.

            "Indeed." He said.

            "We need to tell Dumbledore."

            "I already have. He's working on tighter security as we speak."

            The room had grown colder and she shivered. Graves couldn't feel it, he was almost numb to the chill after all he'd been through. She reached her hand out slowly, resting it over his, palm to palm. "I couldn't stand losing you Graves. You've been my best friend since before you can remember." She smiled deadly. "If you ever dare do that to me again, I'll kill you."

            He laughed out loud this time, cracking away at some of the fear and premature aging.


	78. Complicated

Episode Seventy Eight

            He wrapped an invisibility cloak around his shoulders. "It wouldn't do for any Hogwart's students spotting the ghost of Corwin Graves." He smiled.

            She reached over and squeezed his arm softly. "Where are you going to stay?"

            "Right here." He said. "Dumbledore and I had a long talk. We think it's best if I stay here for now and work on Order projects at the home base. I'm useless in the field so long as everyone still thinks me dead."

            "Tea tomorrow afternoon after classes?" Gwen asked.

            "I'll be here." He said, covering his head with the cloak and dashing out into the nearly empty hallway.

            Graves didn't have to tell her. She wasn't going to breath a word to anyone. Not even Harry. Knowing Graves was alive was one thing. Knowing he was at Hogwarts was completely another.

            Harry noticed that something was different right away. It seemed that a great burden had been lifted from Gwen's shoulders. He couldn't place it, but he knew she was keeping him out of the loop on something. The distance was something he couldn't comprehend.

            Except that Harry was maturing. He realized that relationships with women were not easy, nor were they supposed to be. So what if he couldn't understand the opposite sex, what man could? He was growing comfortable with the concept of being the cool ex-boyfriend she could pal around with.

            They had played around at romance, never getting much further than second base. He was almost too modest to go further. And becoming deeply emotionally attached to someone with so much trauma definitely edged away at any physical desire he might feel. She was more complicated than he cared to really delve into. He had enough of his own problems and baggage to deal with, adding hers was damn near infuriating.

            For the first time in his life, Harry was about to give up on something.


	79. Surprising Snape

Episode Seventy Nine

Part One

"We weren't even aware that he had faked his death. It seems he wanted to escape more than just the dark side." Minerva said quietly over tea.

Gwen wasn't aware that she knew anything about the matter. She was about to say so when Minerva interrupted. "Yes, I know. Dumbledore has briefed me on the situation. As Deputy Headmistress I should know who is and who is not present at this institution."

Gwen nodded. "It seems silly grieving for him now."

"But you love him?" Minerva said, correctly reading the dry tone in Gwen's voice to be more a discomfort with believing he was dead than truly feeling she had wasted her tears on him.

"Deeply." Gwen said with a rare smile. It felt like she hadn't really smiled since her trip to France. It had been so long since she'd felt truly happy.

Perhaps this was a chance to start over.

Graves had died and in a different context been reborn. He was here at Hogwarts, a well guarded secret. As such he had only Dumbledore, McGonagall and Gwen to talk to. She would retire to her room after an afternoon of students parading in and out of her office and working on the Ouranian Barbaric project to find Graves sprawled out on her bed, his new invisibility cloak folded neatly and placed on her desk.

They would chat about the news reported in the Daily Prophet that morning, the strange times they were living in and of course, his involvement with the death eaters and the Order. His story came out in bits and pieces, slowly stringing itself together. It was almost as if he couldn't bear to tell the entire thing in one sitting, he had to leak it out like a drip from a faucet in order to prevent the deluge of tears he couldn't stand. He hated displays of emotion; he felt his tears were a weakness, betraying him.

From what she could tell he had started working for the order before Gwen, shortly after his graduation. His membership was kept highly secret; it was necessary for his own safety. He was working both sides, his loyalty firm to the Order. He had become a death eater before the Carcer Tristitia incident.

The death eater who cast the spell on him knew the effect it would have. It was Graves' warning to limit his association to the school. It had worked well. Graves hadn't spoken to Gwen that whole summer and he only met her over the Christmas holidays when he was absolutely certain the death eaters' eyes were elsewhere.

And then he was silent. He would not say what had driven him to fake his death, what had pushed him so far over the edge he would rather be dead. She didn't ask, she wasn't sure she wanted to know herself, let alone put him through the process of revealing something so painful.

His left forearm was still burning with the image of the dark mark. It was blood red, hideous and painful to the touch. Graves sometimes scratched at it, as if he could rip it off with his frail attempts. Gwen was reminded of the odd pre-term behavior of Snape. Scratching at his arm just before he disappeared.

Of course she knew Snape had been a death eater and that he had tried to turn around, change his life. He was in great danger now, having turned his back on the dark lord when he was rising again. He had returned from whatever venture he had taken his sabbatical for, but he seemed even nastier than usual, barking out at students, taking away house points for almost nothing.

Gwen was torn, while the times they lived in were demanding and depressing she didn't think his attitude was truly warranted. But even Snape had noticed his ill tempered ways and was making an effort to change them.

Part Two

            Snape looked coolly over his desk.

            Neville Longbottom was being a twit again. He had been stuttering and twitching about his full marks for an Herbology pop quiz. He was so preoccupied he hadn't noticed what he was adding to his cauldron. Instead of his potion fizzing pink and then fading to a deep magenta as it should, it emitted a flume of orange mist, the liquid itself turning a vomitous yellow.

            Neville and the unfortunate Miss Hermione Granger had inhaled some of the mist and were turning the same yellowy shade of the liquid, looking jaundiced from head to toe. Neville began to sob immediately.

            The potion they had been working on was a rather complex one. Even those who got the ingredients correct might boil it one second too long and it would lose its potency. If perfected it was a powerful anti-depressant capable of creating a warm pleasant sensation in the consumer of the potion.

            Even Snape however, had failed to make the potion at its proper potency. His doses fell short of the mark. Since it was a rather new development though, he felt vilified. The technique had to be at fault if it was too difficult for even Potions' Master Snape.

            All the same he now had a sobbing yellow curmudgeon sitting across from him, too afraid to speak and biting his lower lip.

            At least the only effect the potion had had on the boy and Granger was the altered skin tone. If Madame Pomfrey couldn't return them to their normally peachy hue they would simply fade back to it within a few days time.

            The truth was, there wasn't enough harm done to warrant any sort of action but a firm talking to. If Neville continued to botch his potions much worse than yellow flesh could ensue. One wrong ingredient, one fouled up step could equal death with some of the potions they had been working on, especially the experimental potions Snape had allowed the highly advanced students to work on.

            Snape would never touch a potion Neville had made, let alone allow someone else to test it on themselves (unless it was that wretched toad, Trevor). But as he sat, glaring at the twittering boy he remembered Hagrid's words about the boy being too timid. Yet he quickly brushed the thought away. The boy simply had to get a backbone, it wasn't his problem.

            But because Hagrid had been so sincere, Snape made an honest effort to be accommodating to Neville's already frayed nerves. He proceeded to give him an hour long lecture on care and proper procedure when handling and mixing potions.

            Neville, truly surprised that Professor Snape was not screaming and was not threatening to fail him, was listening attentively to every word.

            When Severus had finished he nodded gruffly, "you should apologize to Miss Granger and see if Madame Pomfrey could do something about that." He finished pointing at Neville's mustard yellow head.

            The boy nodded nervously, nearly tripped over his feet while walking to the door and barely managed to turn the doorknob.

            _Perhaps, Snape thought, __he won't need another chance after this. Maybe now he'll get it right._


	80. Lucille

Episode Eighty

Part One

            Lucille bounded onto Gwen's lap gracefully, purring contentedly as her mistress stroked her ears. She gazed up at Gwen knowing full well that although her mistress was happy, something was troubling her.

            She wasn't sleeping at night. She was sighing far too often. She looked distracted again.

            Lucille was no expert on such things, but she thought a little genuine affection might help. She wasn't wrong. Cats have great instincts.

            As she purred in blissful pleasure Gwen's trouble eased. Animals could do that for you. They could love you unconditionally and take your attention away from worry. They could devote themselves fully as most humans never could.

            Lucille had been with Gwen since the girl's ninth birthday, closing on ten years. They had bonded instantly, forming a relationship beyond that of a pet and its owner. They were friends and over the years they'd become almost like sisters.

            They didn't share a common language, but they didn't need words to understand each other. They both knew that they were familiars, spirits sent to care for and watch over one another. So far they had not failed to do that.

            Lucille nuzzled her head into Gwen's belly, tickling her and causing a chain reaction of giggles and heavier petting. Lucille loved it when they played like this, rolling around laughing. It was sweet and innocent, like the play of children and brought them closer to that wide-eyed wonder they were both fearful of losing.

            Too much grieving, too much loss threatened to take that euphoric world view and wipe it completely from their minds. Of course Gwen believed it needed to be tempered with realism - the world was not a happy-go-lucky place of wonder. But Lucille thought that you could still stand in awe of terrible things, it was a part of life's process not to be ignored.

            Agree or disagree as they might, they still wanted to maintain that child inside. They had both aged and matured since their first meeting and found that responsibility often carried with it a joy defying sobriety.

            But Lucille couldn't be bothered to think about that while shivering delightedly under her mistress' fingers. She was even pleased enough to let Graves touch her during his usual nighttime visit that evening.

            She had not been really friendly with him at first. Although she was generally a universally affectionate creature she shied away from him. He was too quiet, his mood dark and somber. Even though Gwen trusted him, Lucille wanted to test him out for herself.

            He seemed genuine enough, but there was something very dark inside of him, something he fought with constantly. If Lucille could overlook that she could see the good, loving person Graves was when he was around Gwen. She hadn't failed to notice that they brought out the best in each other.

            Starting now, she was going to give him that chance to get closer.

Part Two

            Gwen looked at Graves thoughtfully. Lucille was actually purring in his lap while he idly stroked her back.

            She hadn't liked him at first, Gwen remembered. Every time he would try to pet her the cat would back off, black hair standing on end. She simply didn't want to be close to him, which was odd since Lucille liked everyone.

            And now the cat had done a complete turn-around and was making nice with the man Gwen was falling back in love with...

            But was she falling in love with him?

            He was leaving tingly trails up and down her arms when he gave her back rubs. He made her giggle when she least expected. And he was growing more snuggly by the day.

            They spent most evenings cuddled on her bed, chatting about the day's events. His very touch was comforting.

            She hadn't realized it, but she was more mature around him. Harry brought out a youthful exuberance, but Graves grounded her, helped her to see things clearly through adult eyes. She had been good for him too. He had lightened up some; he had hope. His hope had renewed her own.


	81. Mage the Sage

Episode Eighty One

Part One

            Sitting in the grey office chair was a brown robed figure, the hood up and concealing its wearer's face. The robe was dark chocolate brown homespun material with simple detailing at the cuffs and hems.

            "You don't know what you want from life." Came a soft lilting alto voice from the hood.

            Gwen startled, backed into the door. She had been surprised to see someone in her office but not so much so that she was going to panic. With Graves creeping around it was sort of an expected thing.

            Yet when the soothing voice had sounded out of the dark sanctuary of the hood, she had been truly disoriented.

            "But it doesn't matter what you want. Your path has been marked out pretty clearly for you, even if you can't see it."

            "Who are you?" Gwen asked, regaining her voice.

            "Mage."

            "Just Mage?"

            "That's all you need to know." The hood was jerked back enough to reveal the face with a single quick nod. "I find it best if the fortune teller keeps it vague. The more you tell the more likely you are to A) alienate your client with too much info or B) botch up the reading."

            Gwen studied the young woman before her. She had an other worldly beauty. Her hair was shiny auburn, her eyes russet jewels set in lightly tanned skinned. Her nose pert, her mouth tiny, the small features were striking on her minute frame.

            "Is there something you want?" Gwen asked.

            "Just wanted to meet you. I know why he chose you, strong and fearless. But I wanted to see for myself."

            "He who?"

            Mage smiled elusively. "The other one knows quite a bit, but he won't tell you because he's protecting you."

            "That's nothing new. Someone's always protecting me."

            "Protecting you from the truth?"

            Gwen gazed into Mage's unreal eyes trying to gauge whether or not she was really hinting at something. She was.

            "I don't really know." She sighed finally. "I'm not even sure what truth is these days. With all the lies my mother told me it's amazing I can trust at all." She brushed a stray piece of ginger hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear.

            "The truth, Guenivere will set you free."

Part Two

            Soon after, Mage left Gwen to her thoughts, locked alone in her office. The strange woman had left her no comfort or anymore answers, only a burning feeling in the pit of her stomach.

            Whether by lies or simply not telling, someone was hiding the truth from her once more.

            Mage had mentioned two men. She thought immediately of Corwin and Harry, but she didn't think either of them capable of keeping deep secrets from her. But if not them then who?

            And of course there was the issue of who had chosen her. And chosen her for what? She just didn't understand.

            She wasn't going to waste her time dwelling on questions she couldn't answer. It would be a long time before she could learn the truth anyway.

            In the meantime she refocused herself on her work with the project and helping Professor Smith's students study for the DADA final. It was awhile off, but some of the students were in a real panic about it.

            Of course there was still the issue of a possible attack on the school. It had been months since Graves' first warning and weeks since his return.

            Gwen felt that something had to give.


	82. Unhinged

Episode Eighty Two

Sitting in her office Gwen heaved a giant sigh. With her head in her hands, she was debating whether or not to brew a sleeping draught. She hadn't been able to sleep properly since her first supernatural visit from her spectral father. Mage's words did not ease the burden of little to no sleep.

She had of course, spoken to Dumbledore about the strange woman's appearance. She felt that he should know, in case castle security had been breached. It had not.

"Ah, Mage came to see you." He said, leaning back and admiring Gwen. "It's not often that she speaks to anyone. I was very surprised to see her myself."

"She came to you too?"

"Yes. Sometimes."

"Who is she?" Gwen asked, the burning feeling returning to her belly.

Dumbledore looked at her plainly. "Who is a very broad question Ms. LeFey. Who is anyone?"

Gwen frowned, pursing her lips slightly. She had dealt with Dumbledore's riddles before. "I just meant, where did she come from? How does she know the things she knows? Why did she come to see me?"

"I would've thought she'd have told you why. How is a harder question to answer. How does anyone know anything?"

At the disbelieving stare from Gwen Dumbledore nearly laughed. He had nearly forgotten her zero tolerance for his round about way of making someone think. He decided to answer her question in a more straightforward manner.

"Mage isn't much older than yourself, but many call her the greatest seer of all time. As a matter of fact they call her Mage the Sage. She has a wisdom born of being able to see what others cannot. As such, she doesn't let anyone get close. It isn't perhaps the same with Madame Trelawney. She likes to keep her inner eye clear. Mage is afraid of connecting with people who are just going to die."

"How is that?"

"She sees people's deaths the moment she meets them."

Gwen looked down into her lap, her hands folded. She had been pulling at her fingers, something she did when she was nervous.

"Perhaps she said something you didn't want to hear?" Dumbledore asked.

"No. She was very vague. Hinting about something I don't have the time to worry about." Gwen replied simply.

Dumbledore's mouth creased into the tiniest smile. "As with all things, the answers will come with time."

"It's just that I can't sleep at night."

"No. I wouldn't imagine you could. When someone hints at some truth you cannot see it unsettles you. It would unsettle anyone."

Sitting alone in her office, she felt more unhinged than unsettled. There was something in Mage's words that had set that fire in her soul burning again. Something about her past didn't ring true and with the dreams of her father still clinging to the edges of her mind she realized that she had to dig up buried memories. She didn't think she could avoid it anymore by delving into her work.

A soft whisper at her ear and a pair of warm hands on her shoulders told her she was not alone. It was Graves, hidden under the folds of his invisibility cloak.

"How long have you been here?" She asked.

"Long enough to know that you need a back rub." He said, kneading her shoulders tenderly.

            She smiled. She felt so good when he was around, but as soon as he was away she felt cold and empty again. Perhaps this was love, the kind of love where an ache filled the hours when you were apart.


	83. The Highly Anticipated and Yet Highly Un...

Episode Eighty Three

            Sometimes, when you wait for something to happen and nothing happens at all you begin to wonder if anything's ever happened in the history of the world. Life becomes mundane, even in a magical castle.

            The students were the usual mixed bunch of boisterous, confused and timid. Draco was back to his usual snide self. Harry and Ron were taking Hermione's study schedule seriously this year. Neville was still struggling in Potions, but with a noticeable amount of patience from Professor Snape he was improving and becoming more attentive in class.

            Graves was getting about as restless as Gwen was. Neither could wait for the end of the term. They were working out plans for a trip to someplace exotic, just the two of them. It seemed like a good idea, a real chance for them to get away and figure out what exactly was going on with their relationship.

            It wasn't so different from the way they behaved in the dream world. Anyone on the outside might think they were dating, but anyone on the inside knew that they were just really good friends who happened to be highly attracted to one another.

            Gwen was thinking that maybe the death eaters had gotten wind of Graves' ruse. Perhaps they had learned he was at Hogwarts and because they knew he would warn Dumbledore they decided to scrap the plan. But this wasn't true, it was just that the death eaters were taking their sweet time putting their plan into action.

            Gwen learned that day that when you least expect it, the adventure comes to you.


	84. Excellent Wand Work

Episode Eighty Four

Part One

            That very evening, sitting at the head table, dining on steak and kidney pie Gwen, along with the students and staff nearly jumped out of her seat as a loud crashing sounded from outside the doors of the main hall.

            It sounded to Gwen as if someone were taking a battering ram to the front doors of the castle. She wasn't far off on her guess. There was a huddle of death eaters outside the main doors, their wands pointed and chanting vigorously. They were bombarding the doors with every spell they knew.

            Apparently, part of Dumbledore's tighter security had been ensuring that the castle wouldn't let in any attempting marauders. He had set a powerful spell on every door to the outside making them unbreachable to strangers. The amazing thing about the spell was that the doors recognized students, faculty and certain upstanding members of the community.

            Dumbledore had to shoot off fireworks to get everyone's attention, as he had years before when a troll had been spotted in the dungeons. When he finally received a quiet audience he announced: "The prefects will lead everyone back to their house dormitory. I ask that all students remain there until further notice." The students shuffled off as the teachers rushed past them into the main hall.

            The doors had not been breached, nor would they be, but the problem needed to be addressed. Once again, someone was trying to compromise castle security and Hogwarts felt less safe than ever. All of the students had passed through the main hall and were currently walking briskly to their dorms.

            The pounding on the door continued.

            "What are we going to do?" Gwen asked, more than ready to take on the dark wizards outside.

            Dumbledore sighed. "They cannot be allowed inside the school."

            "Shall we send out a diplomat?" Snape asked snidely, scratching at the mark on his arm.

            "I will happily take part in that envoy." Gwen offered. She felt a hand on her elbow and knowing that it was Graves in his invisibility cloak she did not turn to look, fearing she might raise some of the staff's curiosity.

            "I wouldn't like wand to wand combat on the front lawns of Hogwarts." Dumbledore said plainly.

            "Nor I." Minerva added.

            "There's nothing for it." Anthony said. "They won't leave until they get a fight and if a fight's what they want that's what they'll get." He added, brandishing his wand.

            "How many are there?" Tiny Professor Flitwick asked meekly.

            Snape peered out of the window nearby. "Ten. That isn't their full force. There may be more waiting to ambush."

            "I think we can take them." Gwen said, that fire beginning to lick at her brain stem once more. She could easily have taken them all on her own.

            Dumbledore gazed at her mildly. "Is that your professional opinion Miss LeFey?"

            "Absolutely not sir." She said with a spritely smile. "That's entirely personal."

            The pounding was growing steadily in volume. "Even with the enchantment Albus those doors can't take much more." Minerva said nervously.

            "Then we have only one option. We must meet them head on."

Part Two

            Gwen was nearly bubbling with excitement. It seemed odd, but the tension she'd been feeling had melted away at the idea of fighting the death eaters. Some insane instinct to protect the school had taken hold on her and everything else was background noise.

            She pulled her wand out of her robe, watching as the other teachers regarded her actions. They remembered very well the description Albus had given them when retelling the tale of her single handed capture of thirteen death eaters. They had no doubt she would be their front line of attack.

            Not all of the teachers would be coming with them. In the chance that something might go horribly wrong they wanted as many teachers within the school as a last line of defense. Among those venturing out were Snape, Smith, LeFey, McGonagall, Hagrid and Dumbledore. Of course Graves was with them, but only Dumbledore, McGonagall and Gwen were aware of his presence.

            The pounding on the door had stopped for a moment and the group used that moment to rush out, closing the doors quickly behind them. Both groups stood still for a tense moment and then a death eater pointed his wand clearly at Gwen. He was about to work the Crucio on her, but Gwen had him disarmed before he had opened his mouth.

            The rest of the group was not so easy to subdue. There were three death eaters to every professor. Snape had been right, there had been more waiting to ambush.

            Anthony was shooting spells left and right, trying to perfect his aim as he went. He knocked one death eater out, but he couldn't seem to hit the other two he had targeted. Minerva was dueling one on one with a tall death eater. She was very stylish, but they were at a stalemate.

            Snape was working with a bloody fury, angrily swishing his wand and dropping a death eater here, another there. Dumbledore seemed to be hanging back. He had chosen to duel one on one, as had Minerva, but he had dropped his first opponent and no others had emerged to challenge him. Hagrid had no wand, but was currently picking up a death eater and throwing him like a discus, aiming for the lake.

            Gwen was surrounded by several of them. They had recognized her from an attack in Hogsmeade and were preparing to reenact the scene. But they were to be highly disappointed. Before they could do anything Gwen had all six of them disarmed. Graves was sneaking around the outside of their ring and knocking each one on his or her ass.

            The teamwork had paid off. Before long they had all six wrapped in tight bonds. The battle was in such a state that no one could hear Graves congratulate Gwen on her excellent timing.

            Before long all of the death eaters had been tied up thoroughly. Dumbledore immediately sent word to the Ministry. Minerva returned to the castle to check in on the students. The rest were left to watch over the group and ensure that no further mischief ensued.

            "That was excellent wand work." Anthony commented to Gwen. He sent her into a blush and she giggled just a little.

            "I had help." She said a little mysteriously and she felt the soft, invisible hand landing on her shoulder in thanks.

            Snape raised his eyebrow and looked past her shoulder directly to where Graves was standing. He narrowed his eyes, as if he could see through the cloak his former student was wearing. Of course he couldn't, but Gwen grew nervous just knowing that Snape was suspicious.

            A group arrived from the Ministry not much later and shuffled the sullen bunch of death eaters into a sort of paddy wagon Gwen assumed would be heading for Azkaban. The professors left on the lawn straggled up to the castle slowly, sighing with relief and Snape growling about Ministry punctuality.

Part Three

            It didn't take long for word to get out. The Daily Prophet had a huge story about the attack the very next day, even with the Ministry's efforts to silence the report. Some people were appalled at the nerve of such a maneuver. Others were terrified that their children might not be safe.

The students were disappointed that classes had not been cancelled and grumbled the entire day. The professors took this in stride and continued to fill their heads with useful information. The Defense Against the Dark Art's lesson was particularly candid as Anthony retold the story of the attack in great detail, painting Assistant Professor LeFey as a heroine of mythic proportions. Of course, Gwen denied any allegations.

When classes ended she retired to her boudoir to find Graves sitting at her bench and gazing out of the window. He had walked her to her room the previous night and wouldn't leave again until he was certain she was ok. They hadn't spoken about Snape's behavior following the attack. It was as if they understood that he knew something was up, but they didn't feel the need to discuss the issue yet. It wasn't yet an issue.

But that afternoon Gwen needed to get something else off her chest. "I felt free when I was fighting the death eaters." She said, surprising herself as she plunked onto the end of the bed.

"Free?" He asked, looking at her with his head to the side and a deep frown.

"It's hard to explain. I just…" She cut herself off. She didn't know how to describe the feeling. It was almost happiness, but that sounded absurd. "It was the only time I felt really good except for when I'm with you or Harry. I just want to get rid of all this anger and confusion. I can't take any more."

"That's where I was not that long ago." He said with a sigh.

She looked at him, honestly put off. She hadn't expected that. He looked lost and tiny, frail when he usually looked so much stronger than she felt. He had changed in so many ways and it was an interesting task trying to discover and make note of the little things that were different. She didn't say anything for a long time when he decided to speak again.

"I'm not working for the Order." He stated plainly.

"Then what was that the other day when you helped with those death eaters?" She asked.

"That was me protecting the one thing I value."

"Me?"

"You." He replied with a grin. She rolled her eyes.

"You could do a lot of good you know."

"I know. But I've been caught between the good and the bad forever. I don't want to go overboard to one side or the other. I'd rather just walk the line for now."

"Is it easier?"

"Walking the line?" He asked. She nodded affirmatively. "Sometimes I wonder. Enough of this." He said with a snort of laughter. He stood, crossed the room, took her hand and pulled her from the bed. He wrapped his arms around her and began a slow dance to a hummed tune. "I don't know if I can make you happy, but perhaps I can chip away at some of the angst."

Her head landed softly on his chest and she swayed in rhythm with his slow steps, content not to worry about anything but the steady beat of his heart.


	85. The NonIssue

Episode Eighty Five

The non issue was about to become a big issue.

            "Good afternoon Assistant Professor LeFey." Snape intoned nastily after lunch. "Could I bend your ear for a moment?" He gestured towards the dungeons, hoping to lead her to his office.

            She looked at him with apprehension. "Of course professor, but I really must attend to Professor Smith first. We have a lesson plan to go over. Would you mind meeting me in my office later?"

            Snape's face darkened. "Of course not." He said, smooth as silk. "After your last class?"

            "Certainly." She said with cordial smile. When he turned and tramped off down towards  the dungeons she let loose a great sigh. This didn't look good. At the very least he would be on her territory and that was something to look forward to, or was it? Gwen couldn't make up her mind.

            She was fairly certain this was about the skirmish with the death eaters. What he knew or how much he was willing to spill was going to be the test. She had to play as innocent as humanly possible in order to protect Graves' secret.

            When Severus entered Gwen's office he seemed to fill the space. He was large to begin with, but in the minimal surroundings he appeared huge. She offered him a seat on one of her oak chairs and he appeared thoroughly appalled at the idea of sitting in one of them. She smiled as best she could until he sat albeit uncomfortably and began the strained conversation.

            "I wanted to speak to you about the death eaters." He started in a slick tone. "I was rather impressed by your fighting skills. I didn't think someone who'd never really been in the field could perform so well."

            "Thank you." She said cautiously.

            "Of course, I couldn't help but notice when you told Professor Smith that you'd had help. Would you mind clarifying that for me?"

            "Well I simply meant that my training with Dumbledore had prepared me. He helped me." She answered with as much innocence as she could muster.

            Snape's eyebrow arched highly. He was seeing through her act. She had to be careful, a little less sweet and cute school girl ought to do the trick. He gave her a moment to sweat, aiming to ferret out any nervousness she might be suffering. She kept her cool, waiting for the second wave of the Spanish Inquisition to begin.

            "Miss LeFey I am aware that there are students with invisibility cloaks in their possession at this school."

            She could have kicked herself. He would never suspect Graves, as he knew it the young man was dead. He suspected that Harry had been her assistant ass-kicker. He knew about their former relationship, how could he not? He knew about the cloak, she was certain because she had read about it in the Rowling books. She had all she could do to stifle the laugh that was threatening to blow her cover.

            "I'm sorry Professor Snape, I'm not certain I understand what you're trying to say."

            He shot her a deadly glare. "Then I will come right out and say it. I don't believe you were alone out there."

            "Of course not." She said, drawing a satisfied smirk from Snape. "All of the professors did their part."

            His eyes narrowed wickedly. "That is not what I meant." He snarled. Perhaps she had misjudged him and gone a little too far. He was baiting her, she was testing him and the situation was not a pleasant one. "I meant to say that you had help from someone under an invisibility cloak."

            "Professor, that doesn't make any sense."

            "And it doesn't make sense that you could disarm and throw down six death eaters on your own." He said agitated. His temper was rising.

            "I've done it before Professor Snape."

            "Yes, and if I remember correctly you had help then. Mr. Graves, no?"

            "My help was unconscious in that instance." Gwen said grating. To accuse her of having invisible aid was one thing (it was true, she just couldn't admit it), to bring Graves into it was completely another (considering that Snape assumed him dead, it was nearly sacrilege to speak so snidely of his memory).

            She felt a firm hand land on her shoulder. She immediately cooled off. Graves was with her, hidden once again and supporting her, a guardian angel. Snape waited, he had no retort.

            "I'm sorry Professor Snape but if that's all you had to say I really must get back to work."

            Snape swept out of her office without another word.

            Graves threw off his cloak as the door closed behind the older man's robes. "You really want to cover for me?" He asked, sitting on the edge of her desk.

            "Do I have a choice?" She asked.

            "Suppose not." He replied, resting a hand on the top of her head. "You're something else." He said with a smile.

            "I don't think he bought it."

            "It'll have to do for now. Unless you could get Harry to collaborate. Snape already thinks it was him and he has a cloak doesn't he?"

            "He does." She began slowly. "He could get expelled for being there though."

            "No he couldn't, he's a member of the Order. He can say he felt it was his duty to come out with the faculty. Dumbledore's protected Harry before over a lot more dangerous situations. I'm willing to bet he's _put _Harry into more dangerous situations."

            She looked down. Rowling's books had said as much. "I'd have to tell him you're here."

            "He already knows I'm alive."

            "That's true." She said. "What real damage would it do to know you're here?"

            "Not more than the good it could do. Harry could say he was the cloaked avenger who helped you in the battle. It'll get Snape off your back and it'll protect my identity."

            "Let's just hope he says yes." Gwen said feeling much worse for having to ask Harry to meet her own means.


	86. Over the Sea

Episode Eighty Six

            The term was quickly coming to a close. The parents who had been frightened for their children's safety after the attack were quickly placated at a word from Dumbledore. The parents who were furious and wanted to do something about it were recruited for the Order of the Phoenix. The parents in between were sent an extensive letter about castle security (and how it could not be compromised with the talents of the faculty protecting it).

            Castle life returned to normal, or as normal as life can be at a magical learning institution. 

            Gwen found Harry wandering the hallways not long after her confrontation with Snape. He was looking disconsolate, but willing to talk. Gwen ushered him into her office and sat him down. Instead of sitting across from him she sat next to him on his level, facing him, her face full of import. But instead of rushing into her idea, Harry looked at her full of worry.

            "What's wrong?" She asked.

            Harry couldn't get out what was wrong. He had the words formed in his head but he couldn't seem to make them come out of his mouth.

            He did not have a place to go after graduation. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia made it very clear that any type of "freeloading" was not to be appreciated. He was going to have to make do on his own. He wasn't too terribly worried, he still had plenty of money in his account at Gringotts; he did have friends he could turn to if times got rough.

            But he was wondering what he was going to do. He hadn't really thought about it before. He'd received the Ministry of Magic packet that all seventh year students did. He perused the contents and threw it away shortly thereafter. He had thought about being an Auror, but the job seemed a lot less lustrous after the imposter Moody was revealed.

            Harry felt divided. He wanted to stay at Hogwarts, it was the only place that felt like home. But he wanted to go out and explore the world, make a difference. But what could he do to make a difference? What job would make him feel worthy? All of his friends had chosen jobs to pursue; Hermione had already been interviewed for her dream job at the Ministry.

            Finally he sighed. "Nothing's wrong." He paused. "And everything's wrong, all at once."

She placed a friendly hand on his. Her dilemma would have to wait. "Want to talk about it?"

His head lowered. "I don't know where to start."

She turned away from him as a thought struck her. She pulled out the volume of poetry her father had given her and turned to the page as if she'd had it book-marked. This particular page was worn all around, as if someone had stroked the thin, aged paper over and over, so passionate about the words that they wanted to feel them under their fingers.

"_Over The Sea_." She started in an easy rhythm, feeling the words slip from her tongue over her lips and into his open hands.

"_I traveled over the sea hoping to find myself_

_Except that I did not have a destination as I had expected_

_The waves ignored me_

_The sun shined and the moon rose no matter what I did_

_The rain poured and threatened to capsize my tiny vessel_

_I grew no closer to my arrival, no further from my departure_

_But the sea was my friend, my only companion_

_She would show me marvels when I was ready to give up_

_She would send a whale to blow sprays of water_

_The sun would shoot a rainbow through the heart of the mist_

_And I would feel that perhaps I could make this my life_

_Traveling, journeying the sea_

_My friend, my guide, my ultimate destination_

_Myself_

_I traveled the sea hoping to find myself_

_And I found something much greater_

_I found the sea_."

She closed the book, slid it onto her desk. "My favorite poem." She said lightly.

Harry looked at her amazed. Here she was, trying so very hard to take care of him, sharing something of her past with him when she herself was obviously struggling. The poem had the effect she had hoped it would. It heartened him, lightened his troubles. No matter what happened next he would discover his path, he would find something he wanted to do. He had the potential, he needed only to channel it.

"Did you have something you wanted to tell me?" He asked, his own worries dissipating.

"Oh, no. It's nothing."

"Come on Gwen, we can talk about my problems later, after I get some food in my stomach."

She shrugged. "Graves is back in town." She said delicately.

"I kind of figured." He said.

She looked at him surprised.

"Well you were getting pretty stand-offish. You only ever acted like that when Graves was around. I knew he'd come back sometime, I just didn't think so soon."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

"You couldn't, right?" She nodded. "I'm not offended. Just feeling a little left out."

"Could you do me a huge favor?"

"What does it entail?" He asked warily.

She smiled. "Only letting Snape spread a rumor that you helped during the death eaters' siege."

"What?" He asked.

"It was Graves. He helped me, under his invisibility cloak. Except that Snape thinks it was you. If I let him keep thinking that he won't suspect that Graves is still alive. It covers my ass and his. And your ass is already covered. You're a member of the Order, protecting Hogwarts was one of our outlined duties."

Harry grinned. "Is that all? Harry Potter the invisible menace? I think I can deal with the repercussions of that." He stood to leave and turned just before opening the door. "Tell Graves he owes me a rematch."

"For what?"

"For that chess game we never finished a few years back. Our temperamental girlfriend threw a hissy fit and we had to quit playing." He winked at Gwen's grin and set off down the hall with a lighter step.


	87. Obliviate

Episode Eighty Seven

            The tests were complete. The finals were over. Most teachers had handed in their grades already. The boys were lazing on the great grassy lawns in front of the castle they'd come to consider as their home.

"Hermione's working in the department for Magical History Preservation." Ron said, rolling his eyes skyward.

Harry couldn't help but laugh.

Ron took a deep breath. "So she starts work in September. They thought it would be nice for her to have a bit of a vacation and Fred and George don't need my help really until school starts, they have a slow spot until Hogsmeade weekends begin. We figured the summer would be the best time."

"For what?" Said Harry, completely clueless.

"For our wedding." Ron said with a bashful grin. Harry's jaw must have dropped because Ron started laughing at him. "As if you didn't know." Ron teased. "We want you to be the best man."

Harry had a hollow feeling in the back of his head as if someone had stolen some memory from him. He honestly didn't know, didn't think it possible. Of course, he had seen the early stages of their chemistry together, but he didn't think it would lead to marriage.

The gulf of silence was growing as Harry tried to figure out why he didn't know about this sooner. He came to his senses as Ron stared at him, torn between flabbergasted and concerned. "Of course." He said. "I'd be honored."

"Good. There'll be fittings for our tuxedoes sometime in July and of course we've set the big day for mid-August. You know Harry, I feel kind of stupid, but I think this is the best decision I've ever made."

Harry smiled at him, for a moment forgetting his confusion. He truly was happy for his two best friends. They weren't madly in love, like people who couldn't keep their hands off each other, but they were deeply in love and it was obvious. The way Ron looked at her when she wasn't looking at him. The way Hermione sighed when he held her hand.

That evening at dinner Harry noticed the thin band of gold on her hand with a single pink stone. He wondered when and where Ron had picked it up. It looked expensive. Ron noticed Harry admiring it and bent close to his ear. "Fred and George loaned me a bit for that, so in a sense Harry you paid for it."

Harry gave him that ponderous look of confusion once again. "The tri-wizard money you gave them." Ron explained with a hint of exasperation. "They didn't spend it all on the business. They put some in Gringotts and have been making a pretty penny off interest."

Harry had a fitful night of sleep and when he couldn't stand it anymore he climbed out of bed, donned his invisibility cloak and wandered the halls of Hogwarts. There was a very good chance he wouldn't be coming here again for a long time. He was surprised to see a light on in Gwen's office and to hear the soft hum of a tune he couldn't quite recognize.

He knocked gently on the door and at the soft surprised "come in" he entered, removing the cloak as he went.

"For a second there I thought you were Graves." Gwen said as Harry emerged. "Of course, he wouldn't knock." She laughed. "Couldn't sleep?"

He nodded his head. "You either?"

"Nah. Never can this time of year."

"Why's that?"

"Dunno. I usually sit next to a window and gaze out until I feel sleepy again, but I just had to get out of my room tonight."

"I know how you feel."

"Restless." She said with a painful smile. He hadn't really looked at Gwen in a long time. She wasn't the same daydreamy Gryffindor he'd come to know. She had grown and for the first time Harry thought she looked like a woman and not a confused little girl. The transition had happened while his eyes were turned elsewhere and that hollow feeling had come back, leaving him dazed.

"Ron and Hermione are getting married." Gwen commented after a silence that stretched out for miles. She had heard it through the grapevine and again during her daily tea with Minerva.

"Yeah." Harry replied, a sullen note hidden under false enthusiasm. The hollow feeling was growing by the second. Had someone performed the oblivate spell on him when he wasn't paying attention?

"What's wrong? Aren't you going to be the best man?"

"Yeah. It's just that so much is changing."

Gwen gave him a sympathetic smile, but like a teacher she replied: "well you guys couldn't mess around Hogwarts forever."

"No, and I know that. I just didn't realize we were growing up so fast. We're facing some pretty adult decisions now and I wasn't really prepared for it."

"I don't think anyone is ready for that transition Harry. It happens, it knocks the wind out of you and eventually you learn how to cope with it."

Harry looked at Gwen thinking in his already aggravated mood that he wouldn't ever learn to cope with it. The Boy Who Lived was now struggling to survive.


	88. August 23rd

Episode Eighty Eight

            Gwen had been thinking about Harry's problem for some time now. _Problems, she corrected herself. He was graduating from a magical learning institution and had no clue where to go next. She had faced that same decision not that long ago and while being a teacher was something she enjoyed it wasn't what she loved. She wasn't sure what she loved. She felt the strange magnetic pull of something else, but as she didn't know what that something else was she couldn't very well pursue it._

            She didn't feel much like doling out advice to Harry if she didn't even know what to do with her own life.

            "August 23rd must be an important day for you." Graves observed, once again lounging on Gwen's bed after a long day of wandering about under the invisibility cloak.

Gwen looked at him shocked and startled out of her thoughts. It was indeed an important day, but how he knew that… She noticed the handwritten schedule he had clasped in his hand. Every date thereon had something scribbled near it but that one. It was her own handwriting.

She had been making these handwritten schedules for years, trying to get her tasks straight. She had a tendency to be a bit forgetful, but writing things down seemed to help. She had sat down just last night after grading the first years' DADA finals and worked up a schedule for the entire summer. She was going to be doing some Order business and lesson plans with Anthony, plus her trip with Graves. She had found that everyday of the summer had some activity with the exception of one, August 23rd.

"It would have to be an important day, otherwise you'd make up something to do, huh?" He continued.

She jerked her head in a singular affirmative nod, folding her arms across her chest. She looked suddenly smaller, as if she could wrap herself into a tiny ball she would.

"You and I are a lot alike," he said. "We have many secrets that we tell no one, not even ourselves."

She studied him carefully, during his lengthy confinement at Hogwarts he had become subdued, almost docile. He really had only Gwen to talk to, and while he didn't mind this at all he could've spent the rest of his life just talking to Gwen, he had found a sort of solitude he was unaccustomed to. His usual temperament had been quieted, suffocated under a blanket of secrets. There was no telling when or if he would throw off this comforter of silence.

"It's my birthday." She said finally. "And the day my father died." She swiped at her watery eyes. "Must be allergic to something." She joked.

He smiled kindly. "You know, it's ok to feel conflicted. You want to celebrate the passage of another year and yet you want to grieve for another year without your dad. It's not a crime to be confused."

"But to be conflicted every day of your life?"

Graves was grinning at her and she was afraid he was about to laugh. "Guenivere, as long as I've known you, you've never ceased to amaze me."

"How's that?"

"You still wish you could be normal, don't you?"

"Not as much as I used to." She started slowly. "I figured in the dream world that I was different for a good reason, but I didn't really want to give that up. I just wished sometimes that things could be…" She paused, for lack of a better word: "normal. I guess."

"You could never be normal. Besides, there's no such thing."

"That's what my mom would say. You remember when I said 'I don't make magic; things just tend to happen around me.'?"

He nodded. It had been a long time ago in the dream world one late night when neither could sleep. He had called her over and she lay across his bed, her head on his stomach talking philosophy and whatever came to mind. He had asked her if she'd done any magic recently and she had replied:

_"I don't really make magic; things just tend to happen around me."_

"I still feel that way sometimes." She continued. "It doesn't always feel like the magic is coming from me. It's hard to describe." She added at the appearance of Graves' furrowed brow.

He looked at her a long time trying to think of a way to ease her worries.

She gave a soft, short laugh. "I don't even know what I'm saying anymore. It's late."

"It is late. I should go."

"You could stay." She said lightly.

"You wouldn't mind?"

"The bed's big enough for both of us, just don't try to pull any fast moves on me ok?"

"Ok." He said mocking ever so slightly.

"You don't want to be on the wrong side of my wand." She threatened.

"No, no I don't." He conceded, curling up beside her on the bed.

She fell asleep soon after, knowing that for the first time in weeks her father would not be joining her for their nightly conversation. Graves however, didn't sleep for hours, haunted by images he didn't have the heart to utter. Sometime in the night she snuggled into his chest, wrapping an arm around his waist. Only then was he at last able to close his eyes and dream.


	89. The Little Voldemort Problem

Episode Eighty Nine

            There was to be a meeting of the Order of the Phoenix the eve before the end of the term. None of the members knew what the proceedings would include, but they were all signed up to attend. At nine pm they began to arrive on broom, some walking up the lawns having apparated just outside the gates. They met just outside Forbidden Forest at the entrance to a very large tent, that would appear invisible to the naked eye, but with Hagrid standing outside, guarding its entrance the Order knew where to go.

            All of the older members were there and many of the newer ones that Gwen knew by name. It was an impressive congregation, but she knew no where near the numbers of the dark side. They gathered at first in small groups, chitchatting and catching up. Harry stood close to the entrance flanked by Hermione, who was looking timidly around (this would be her first night as an Order member). Up until now the Order had met in small groups, no more than ten to fifteen. Tonight was the first time all members would congregate together.

            Dumbledore appeared in long flowing robes of ruby adorned with tiny golden stars. His white hair lay in waves down past his waist painting an image of Father Time in the flesh. He appeared troubled to the eye that knew him well, and since Gwen had spent an inordinate amount of time with him during her training for the DADA position she had mastered many of his moods and tones.

Chairs appeared all around the periphery of the giant enclosure. They were the sort of functional chair that offered some comfort, but not enough to sit in them for long. The congregation quieted quickly as they took seats.

"We have gathered here for a very grave purpose." Dumbledore began. "We all know the dark forces are gathering. There have been disappearances, unexplainable deaths. The silence before the storm is about to end. We must now take a stand against the dark forces. I have gathered everyone here to commit to that purpose."

There was much nodding of heads and a few loud affirmative noises. "I am also prepared to take any suggestions as to what we can do. Consider this a giant brainstorming session."

A few of the gathering chuckled heartily and set to talking amongst themselves excitedly, shooting theories and ideas back and forth for group approval before bringing it to Dumbledore's attention. Gwen sat quietly looking at her kicks, battle scarred from walking across the soggy grounds so often. She was in no mood to share any of her ideas. Something had snapped in her brain, something that made her cranky, something that made her mad and she wasn't sure what it was.

Some were becoming more vocal about their plans to quell the dark lord and wandering about the tent, stopping here and there to deliver a small speech to a group and then finally heading over to Dumbledore to present their finalized campaign. Harry and Hermione were discussing something heatedly, but Gwen didn't think it had anything to do with the proceedings. Snape was staring at them and when Gwen finally caught his gaze she found there a confusion. He was trying to figure out what was going on between the friends and former students. Gwen looked away and noticed that the room had become suddenly silent.

An old wizard, even older looking than Dumbledore stood and raised his hand in mock toast. "Dumbledore is without a doubt the most powerful wizard on our side. If he is with us we are sure to defeat the dark lord."

Gwen stood up, the thin rope she had been dangling on had snapped and she had smacked the surface of reality. "If Dumbledore is so damn powerful why hasn't he stopped the dark lord already?"

Dumbledore sat, calmly gazing at her. Snape's attention was now focused solely on Gwen, amazed that she could be so brash. The others sat in awestruck silence. What she was saying was blasphemy, but the more they thought on her words the more they wanted to know too.

Harry looked over at her shocked. "Gwen." He said warning.

"Hasn't anyone else ever thought that?" After a tense moment she continued. "Oh I see. None of you are brave enough to say it. Don't worry, I will. I don't really care anymore. I just want to get to the bottom of this little Voldemort problem we all seem to have."

Every last wizard and witch in the tent winced at mention of You-Know-Who's name. Dumbledore remained placid in his appearance. Guenivere had the power to unhinge him, he knew it, but he was too curious as to where she was going with this to try and stop her.

Suddenly she turned her eyes on him fully. "I'm angry Albus." She said in such a calm manner that it suggested she was anything but. "I'm dangerous when I'm angry. I should go."

Albus nodded and Gwen stalked from the tent taking her fury with her into the inky night.


	90. Violent Temper

Episode Ninety

Gwen threw her hair impatiently into a ponytail. It was growing back faster than she thought possible since Draco's haircut and was at that obnoxious stage where you debate for months if you want to cut it again or just leave it and let it grow out because it keeps getting in your face. She always hated her hair in her face and she never understood women who wore their bangs over their eyes.

She wrapped her arms tight around her chest and stared out the large windows of Dumbledore's office.

"You've got a violent temper." Snape said with a smirk from behind her. He had her cornered by the windows and there was no chance for escape from his verbal barrage.

"I know that." She said not bothering to turn and face him. She had figured he might follow her after her grand exit from the tent.

"Did you ever wonder where you got it from?"

Gwen looked at Snape impatiently over her shoulder. She really didn't have time for this discussion. Dumbledore would be coming shortly and she only wanted enough time to say goodbye. She needed to get away for awhile and sort things out.

Snape made an impatient noise. He wouldn't take her silence as an answer. "No, not really." She huffed. "If that's all the pre-game advice you have then I'll thank you to leave already. I expect Dumbledore will up soon enough."

"Your father was a death eater." Snape said, dropping it like a bomb.

Gwen faltered. She looked at Snape, deeply into his eyes trying to discern the truth. She closed her eyes and placed a cool hand to her forehead, covering her face with open fingers. "Is this true?" She asked, hardly certain she could believe any answer Snape could give her.

"I know firsthand." He said rolling up his sleeve and revealing the Dark Mark to her.

Gwen was amazed. Not only was he telling her the most ridiculous thing she'd ever heard, but he was revealing one of his darkest secrets to her, implying some amount of trust. She looked away, trying to make sense of what he was saying.

"Did he never wear short-sleeved shirts around the house?" Snape asked, almost laughing. "I could provide you with more evidence than just my word. I know you won't take that."

"You mistake my silence for annoyance. And no, my father never wore short-sleeves." She took a breath. "It's only that the possibility of such a thing has never been suggested before. It's a bit much to take in."

"I think he's been trying to tell you."

She turned her head almost in slow motion. "How did you know about the dreams?"

"You seem to trust that an empty looking hallway in Hogwarts is indeed empty."

"You eavesdropped."

"Not intentionally. But since then I have found reason for concern. You can barely concentrate on your work."

"I plan on taking a leave of absence." She informed him coolly.

"And is this your way of making up for his mistakes?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You. You can't tell me that little display out in the tent wasn't to meet your own goals. Leave of absence? You want to single handedly wage war with the Dark Lord. You think he will be so easy to overthrow?"

"No Severus. And I don't plan to wage a war. Where is this coming from?"

"This is coming from months of steady observation. There's something entirely unreal about you."

"There's nothing unreal about me."

"Keep telling yourself that Princess. If you believe that maybe you believe your daddy will come back to life."

"My father paid for his mistakes. With his life. And I'm going to pay for my own. But I'm not doing this for him."

"If you strike at him without anyone's help you won't come back."

"I'm not going to strike at anyone. Why do you care anyway?" She snapped.

Snape was thunderstruck. He had no words to explain why he cared. He never really liked Gwen and ordinarily didn't get along with her except for that one time a few summers ago when she asked him to work on a sleeping potion with her. Somewhere between then and here he became concerned for the young woman's life.

Maybe it was her fearlessness that worried him. She had a super-man complex and those individuals are usually the first to die in times of conflict. If you think you're invincible, you shouldn't leave home. And then he thought maybe she was invincible. There had been a rumor circulating the death eaters a few years back, he still had friends who hadn't turned on him when he turned. A very few, but they still spoke to him about important matters. But that was just a rumor. Harry Potter was the only child immune to the Avada Kedavra curse. There couldn't be another one.

Gwen was facing him now, leaning against the window her face calm and full of import. Snape's silence had surprised her. He was actually taking the time to think of a way to explain himself, or at least that's what she thought he was doing. He wasn't really trying to come up with an explanation, he was trying to come up with a reason.

"You obviously need some more time to think through this issue." She said finally. "I'm not final jeopardy, there's no time limit."

"There might be." He said slowly. "There are some things you should know before you leave."

She heaved a sigh, looking for all the world like an impatient child tired of waiting for dessert. Severus didn't think he was the right person to tell her all he knew of her father however. He hadn't been so close to the man that he understood his motives, which appeared strange when Gwen was a child and later as Snape's last remaining loyalties communicated the rest, the odd story seemed downright ludicrous.

"What if your father isn't who you thought he was?"

"I already know that." Gwen said thickly. "Just to what extent…"

"No." He interrupted with calm forte. "I mean wasn't _who _you thought he was. What if he's another person entirely?"

Gwen looked dumbstruck. This sounded like it was right out of a cliché romance novel. "Severus." She said, realizing that she was using his first name for the second time in her life and being shocked by the familiarity of the whole situation. Since when, she thought, was she on a first name basis with the Potions' Master?

"I don't say this to anger you Guenivere." He said, suddenly much softer. He was bordering on tender and this unnerved her more than anything Snape had ever said before. "I say this because I need you to think and to dig. I can't tell you all I know. I'm not even sure I know enough to make sense of it. But I think you can find it. I think you can find out the truth. Maybe you could wade through your mother's estate. There might be some papers there of importance."

Gwen could see now where this might be heading. "And you want me to postpone my other plans in order to search through these papers?"

Snape looked at her, the thought had crossed his mind and again he felt the odd sensation of caring for this girl. He couldn't explain it to himself where it sprung from. Perhaps his years of coolness had left a great reservoir of emotion and somehow this girl was tapping into it. He couldn't respond to her because Dumbledore returned, surprised to find Snape standing before his desk.

"Can I help you Severus?" He asked cordially.

"No thank you, Albus. I was just leaving."

Snape left, trailing question marks with the billowing of his midnight robes. Dumbledore sensed the tension. Something important had just happened and he had inadvertently interrupted it.


	91. Sabbatical

Episode Ninety One

The deep silence Severus left behind him remained for quite some time. Dumbledore remained standing, looking at some of his knickknacks on the walls and shelves, waiting for Guenivere to make her move.

She saw no point in further postponing her thoughts. "I'm not the first to have questioned your judgment and I'm certainly not the last, but I am perhaps the most vocal."

"I would be quick to agree with that statement."

"I'm sorry Albus, I didn't mean to question you're honorability." She rushed. "I'm just… I just snapped."

Albus shook his head. "You've been under a lot of stress this past term."

"You don't even know the half of it. I don't know; the anger just took over me. I think I should leave Hogwarts."

"Leave?"

"I just don't think I'm right for teaching just now, and the holidays are beginning, and I'm sure Professor Smith wouldn't mind staying on another semester until you could find other help."

"If you're questioning your honorability you shouldn't. You earned your position here and you have done a great service to us and the students. Your anger has never come in the way before."

"Not before, but that's no guarantee that it won't in future. I just can't do it right now." She said. "So I'm tendering my resignation."

"And if I tell you that you cannot resign?"

"I'll leave anyway."

"Then it seems that we must part ways." He said, offering his hand. She took it in her own and shook feebly. When she drew her hand away she looked down at it as she had so many times before when she was feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders. It seemed that all life was made of was problems, heaped up on top of one another until there was nothing to do but give up. She was on the verge of giving up.

"I am truly sorry Albus, but I feel useless here." She said quietly. "I haven't even done anything to really help the Order." She heaved a giant sigh, a chain of sorrows connected by breath that hardly felt human anymore.

Dumbledore gazed at her evenly. "You have already provided a great service to the Order."

"When?" She said.

"When you delivered my letter to Madame Maxime." He replied.

"May I ask what was in the letter?"

"You may, but I may not answer."

"Then it seems that we've said all we can to one another."

"It would seem so."

"Farewell." She shook his hand once again and walked slowly from his office. He nodded quietly to her back. That would have to be good enough.


	92. Gringotts

Episode Ninety Two

            Before she could leave however, there were many loose strings to tie up. For instance saying goodbye to the just graduated Harry, Hermione and Ron. Ron of course, shook her hand awkwardly. She was ok as a person, but he liked her better as a teacher. Hermione did the same, forcing a polite smile. She had seen Gwen's outburst the night before and would have been just as happy not to see her until she was certain the girl had calmed down.

            Harry's goodbye was postponed and although he made the pretense of hugging her and wishing her well when Ron and Hermione did at the front gates of Hogwarts waiting for the carriages to take them to Hogsmeade, he would not be leaving with them.

He would be staying another night and traveling to Diagon Alley the next day. He needed to get money and find a place to live, with plans to stay at the Leaky Cauldron until he could find a flat for himself.

That evening he begged Gwen to come with him and only refusing to ever talk to her again could possibly drag her in that direction. So it was that she packed her bag (she intended on traveling light, even though she had no plans of returning home for months) and met Harry on the front steps. They would apparate to Diagon Alley now that Harry had his license.

Standing in line at Gringotts was not Gwen's idea of a good time. But it was a good opportunity Harry had provided her with. Not only would she serve as his company but she could finally claim the money left to her in Corwin Graves' last will.

            "He left you all his money?" Harry asked as they stood amid all the chattering people.

            Gwen laughed. "He knows me very well. I won't spend a dime of it. But I am going to put it in my account so that we have access to it, should the need arise. He can't just show up and claim it if he's dead."

            They remained quiet for awhile until Gwen noticed someone waving vigorously at them. "Harry, that girl's waving to you. I think she wants to talk." She said.

            Harry's face went through an entire gamut of emotion, from joy, to confusion, resting on crest fallen.

            "Why don't you go talk to her? She's not part goblin is she?"

            "No, I don't think so."

            Gwen gave a giggly laugh. "Then go talk to her. She won't bite. And if she does, just bite back."

            Harry took a big gulp and crossed the lobby to Cho's side in three strides. In the meanwhile Gwen looked up and counted ceiling tiles. She was aiming to save Harry's space in line but she was soon next and any amount of gesturing would not have drawn his attention from Cho.

She was being brought into a little office to prove exactly who she was and three quarters of an hour later she was led down into the vaults. The most unfortunate part of this process was the ride down into the expanse of Gringott's underground. The cart they rode in was iron, and the fey part of Gwen grew weak and nauseous at the very touch of the metal, yet she couldn't help holding on for fear she might fall out.

The ride seemed twice as long as it might and she was not a bit ashamed when she vomited profusely just outside of Corwin Grave's vault. She had quite a hard time focusing her eyes and stood holding onto the door frame of the vault for some long minutes. At a slight harumph from the harassed looking goblin she removed all of Corwin's money and a few small packages that she assumed to be keepsakes from his parents. She placed them into her own vault after another nauseating ride without opening anything and was led back to the little office she had started in.

"Just sign here and here to say that you've closed out the account." Said a tiny goblin. She was finally returning to her normal color when she took the pen and swirled her name in permanent ink. She hadn't really thought about it, but this was almost an admission that Corwin, the Corwin everyone else knew, was dead. She was about to leave when the goblin spoke again. "Oh me. I'd nearly forgotten. There is something in your folder you might want to look at."

Gwen took the folder from the goblin's ready hands and sat to read it. She had never been allowed to see her folder before now, but she assumed correctly that because she was eighteen now she could look at it whenever she pleased.

            There was a stamp of approval in the top right corner of the document on the top of a stack of other documents, some obscure number codes alien to her at the top left and at the very bottom her mother's signature. It was dated not a week before her death.

            Gwen read carefully, the twisting language therein leaving her already light head lighter. "I'm sorry, what does this say exactly?"

            "It says that you should come into your inheritance on your nineteenth birthday." The goblin replied, as if that was the most obvious thing about the document before her.

            "Oh." She said, aiming not to sound stupid again.

            The goblin smiled at her, something that created more lightheadedness. "I suggest you come back on that very day to claim it."

            "Thank you." She replied, handing the folder back to the goblin and trying really hard to lower the queasiness in her belly. Leave it to her mother to leave something else unsaid.

            She left all of that for another day, contented to spend the rest of this one with Harry. They went for ice cream and took a browse around Quality Quidditch Supplies. He set himself up with a room for the night and offered to buy Gwen dinner. She accepted only if he'd let her buy him a paper called "Wizarding Real Estate."

            Together they spent the rest of the night looking over apartments and houses built around wizarding communities. Nothing really grabbed Harry, but he was set for now, happily holed up in the Leaky Cauldron, a familiar place he had stayed before.

            Their goodbye was not tearful nor cheerful. Gwen spoke quietly, not revealing much of her plans (as she didn't have anything firm in mind). Harry kept sighing, realizing for not the first time that he would be facing tomorrow alone.


	93. He Failed Her

Episode Ninety Three

Part One

            Gwen figured that the miniature triumphs and pitfalls of life didn't really lead anywhere but to self improvement. Even then she thought the idea was pushing it. There wasn't really a goal or an ultimate mission to fulfill. Most of it was just living, breathing day in and day out with the usual humdrum that makes up a person's life. Death was the only true end to anyone's story.

            And she certainly didn't believe in happy endings. The events over the next couple of years would certainly justify her in feeling so. Perhaps it was because her life was so much like a fairy tale and as a child she had read the original Grimms, not the watered down Hollywood versions so prevalent in American culture (where she had spent a good deal of her time in the dream world).

            These tales didn't often end happily. People, especially women were forced back into their "roles." Many of the characters were maimed (or self mutilated) as an appropriate ending to some evil. There was magic and enchantments, fairy princesses and deep, dark evil.

            It sounded very familiar to her.

            The next few months would be spent drifting from here to there, trying so very hard to figure out who she was. She would quietly observe her birthday, the day of her father's death with nothing more than some shed tears and now that she could apparate there, some red roses to rest on his grave. The next year would find her taking sabbatical and arriving right back where all of this business started, still without the knowledge of who her father really was and whether or not he had been a death eater.

            And all the while she wasn't exactly certain of what she really wanted. Of course, she wanted the truth, when she realized her mother had told her nothing but lies she had yearned for the knowledge being withheld from her. It was a distant star and she was an earthbound girl, who couldn't easily reach up into the sky and pluck the sparkling sphere for her peace of mind.

            Yet she felt that there was something beyond the truth and the lies, something she wanted more than to have her mother back, if only to tell her the story of her life.

Part Two

            The sun was striking the long rolling foothills of New York with the last of its dying strength for the day without concern for the girl who was lounging in a languid sleep. She'd been napping far longer than she intended, trying to push away the restlessness she still felt brewing in the pit of her stomach. Not even months of wandering had helped to settle that feeling. She knew why it was there, she just wasn't ready to face it.

            She'd sent many owls to Harry, reassuring that everything would work out and asking that he send her best wishes to his newlywed best friends. She'd sent countless letters to Minerva, trying to arrest her fears about wandering alone cross-country. She dropped notes two and three times a day to Corwin, aiming to keep the distance between them to miles and nothing else.

            Leaving him had been the hardest part of her transition but he sat her down on the edge of her bed and said with a smile. "I saw this coming from a mile away." She sat there, quiet for a moment. It wasn't so much that she wanted to leave, but more that she needed to.

            "How do you know me so well?" She asked.

"It's like breathing. A little in, a lot of out." He grinned. "I figured you needed some time to sort things out. You have a lot of emotional baggage to sort through and you're not ready to share it just yet. I'm going to stay here, you're going to take off and I'm giving you space."

She rose softly, placing a hand on his thin cheek. "Thanks." Then she did what neither of them had expected, she broke down crying.

"Hey, hey." He said quietly. "Don't cry. I know you're coming back."

She held him as if this was going to be the last time. It felt like it could be. Life was such an incredible toss up and she didn't know what side of the coin she was on. Months later and she was laying on the side of a mountain in a different time zone, feeling as though she were on another planet.

She shielded her eyes from the sun with well tanned hands and opened them tentatively. The scene before her was so achingly beautiful, the curve of blue mountains holding the swollen bow of red sun as it hunkered down for the night. The clouds were wispy here and there, scattered across the canvas blue by an unpredictable wind. She sighed and raised herself off her elbows, standing for the first time in hours and finding her legs unsteady.

            As the sun set she made up her mind. With enough concentration she was standing in her mother's study in the house she now held the deed for, the house she had refused to return to since her mother's death. The mountains were far enough away that a little of the courage they had given her was now waning. She had to find those papers before she lost courage all together.

            She searched, feeling like Jacques Costeau under a sea of legal documents. Three days she picked through pile after pile, her head sinking from time to time trying to find a comfortable spot to bed down for the night, but she fought off the fatigue, gazing into ledger after ledger with glazed eyes and heavy lids.

            It was not until she came to the bottom of the pile that something perked her interest. It was a brief note written by a Mr. Jeremiah Leandre. It was nothing more than a thank you note from a business engagement, but something about it caught her attention. She placed it to the side where she could look at it again later, when she was a little less hazy. She found nothing of legal documents pertaining to herself. Not a single scrap or certificate that might lead her any closer to the truth. She sighed heavily and decided that there was only one other person in the world who might be able to tell her things that she did not know.

            But before she would approach that avenue she needed a break. While she had been "breaking" for several months the three intense days of detective work had truly exhausted her and she was more than willing to return to Corwin if only just to laze about in his arms for a few days before returning to France.

Part Three

            Gwen caught her reflection in her mother's looking glass as she prepared to apparate outside the Hogwart's grounds. It caught her by surprise. She was a lot darker than she remembered being, but spending most of her time out of doors for the last three months had done that. Her hair had already passed the length it had been pre-Draco's hair cut. What startled her most was her eyes, something she rarely had the opportunity to gaze into. She was looking into someone so much older, with more experience and knowledge than she truly thought she possessed. She dropped what she was doing to get a closer look at herself.

            She finally understood the mirror dream, if only for a single moment. She was looking at someone she didn't know. She knew it was her own reflection, but she did not see herself in the reflection at all. She saw a stranger staring out of eyes that looked so damned familiar. She saw with some amount of discomfort that she didn't look much like her father anymore, nor even her mother. She was taking on very fey qualities that they LeFey line did not own. She was looking more unsellie and that unsettled her more than anything Mage could tell her now.

            She tore herself away from the queer image presenting itself for her inspection. She had read "The Sorcerer's Stone." She didn't want to waste away before a mirror that could do nothing more than show you things you didn't rightly understand.

            Within moments she was trouncing across the grounds towards the castle that had become home. School was just now starting and students were strewn across the lawn, enjoying some after lesson fresh air while the weather still supported such action. But no one noticed Gwen, whether because she was so concentrated on Graves that she did not notice them, or because she was hiding herself without realizing.

            Graves however, was nowhere to be found.

            Several professors looked up in surprise from their paperwork, to find Guenivere sticking her head through a door, giving the room a good looking over and promptly removing her head to continue the search. Only one professor stopped her dead in her tracks by standing immediately and casting an immobularus spell on her legs.

            The professor in question of course was Snape and he whisked her into the room with another spell, sitting her at a desk with no word as to his sudden desire to have her at his rapt attention. She sat looking at him with stormy eyes and it was no surprise to him that the words flowing steadily from her mouth were words you would only imagine a sailor using.

            He set his wand on the desk before her and sat calmly on the nearest chair. "When you are quite finished Guenivere I have some things I'd like to ask you." He said in his softest possible tone.

            His soft words stopped the flow instantly, damming forever a diatribe of nastiness she would never have the gumption to utter again. Snape spoke immediately, not wanting to spoil this window of opportunity. "I am unaware of what has prompted your return but I feel the timing too perfect to be believed."

            "What timing?" She asked cautiously. She hadn't really been keeping up on what was going on in the wizarding world, other than what Harry wrote her and she supposed that Graves had never included details about Hogwarts business because he didn't want to worry her needlessly.

            Snape smiled grimly. "I have discovered one of your old friends haunting our fine old castle here. I would've killed him on the spot except that he was speaking to Dumbledore and I thought murdering him in front of the headmaster was just poor show."

            "Which old friend?" Gwen intoned carefully, fully aware that her face had gone white and that beads of sweat were now popping up along her brow line.

            "A former pupil whom I had thought dead. I suppose of course you knew all along that he was here. It seemed only logical. You certainly do have a talent for picking the most impossible beaus."

            "You don't mean to say Corwin Graves?" She asked, treading a very thin line.

            "I do indeed. You might tell him that should I find him again I will not be so quick to contain my temper or my wand."

            The thin line she had been walking suddenly gave way beneath her. "Contain your temper?" She huffed. "You have never bothered to before. Why start now?"

            Snape looked at her surprised. She had taken many liberties in speaking her mind before now, but never while she was being held captive by a man that she knew had been a death eater. He snatched his wand hastily from the desk and released her legs. "You are free to go." He spoke, dripping acid slowly down her spine with his tone. He turned away from her, hoping that she would leave without further incident. He couldn't take much more before he snapped.

            She stood and glared at him, her eyes flashing with the soul burning embers that her temper rekindled. Severus had never seen her temper fully unleashed. He had only ever seen tiny bits of weak anger being lashed out. "You might have realized Severus that I don't deal well with anger, and threats on my friend's life anger me beyond measure. I don't believe it should be Graves who treads carefully. I believe it should be you."

            He grabbed her wrist with his free hand, twisting it cruelly and raising his voice. "I don't take to threats Ms. LeFey and I suggest you not make them in my classroom."

            He released her, realizing just exactly what he had done. She stumbled back, rubbing her bruised wrist and feeling somehow that she had failed him and what was worse that he had failed her.

Part Four

            Gwen found Graves not long after, holed up in her room even after all the months that she had been away. She sensed that he felt safest here, it was the one haunt he could roam about freely, no fear of being discovered. At his request Dumbledore had kept the room for Gwen, feeling that she would come back.

"Oh. He's got a wicked temper." She said after having relayed the incident to Graves.

"Yeah he does." Graves said with a huff of forced laughter. He wasn't terribly surprised and cursed himself for not being as careful as he usually was. He still felt that Snape's behavior toward Gwen was uncalled for, but he wasn't about to say so. Gwen would deal with it when she wanted to and not a minute sooner.

"Oh shit." Gwen said, her face falling, her anger forgotten.

"What?" He asked concerned.

"He asked me if I ever wondered where I got it from. Oh shit."

"What are you on about?"

"But that can't be." She said, truly flabbergasted. "That can't be. No fucking way."

"What?" He yelled, trying to shake her from her odd rambling.

"Snape might be my dad." She said softly.

Graves actually laughed out loud. "You're exhausted. Go to bed."

"You're treating me like a five year old again."

"Yes I am. Now just get in your jammies and tuck in."

"But what if…"

He cut her off. "You have said some real fucked up things in your day and I have gone along with them, but this… this is ridiculous."

Gwen realized he was right when she was too tired to argue otherwise. He tucked her into bed and curled up beside her not much later. Whatever had put that thought into her head would have to be sorted out in the morning of a fresh, new day.


	94. The Locked Box

Episode Ninety Four

            The fresh, new day brought with it a fresh, new idea. Of course, she still hadn't faced the issue of Snape as father (but it would've explained some of his recently queer behavior towards her). Instead she thought she might find something of the truth in her inheritance. Perhaps her mother had left her some papers to sort through at Gringotts, instead of in her study at the house.

            With that in mind she walked down past the main gates to the school and concentrated just enough to get to Diagon Alley. It wasn't too many months before that Gwen was sitting in the exact same office of Gringotts and looking at her account folder with a detached interest. It didn't seem real to her just then, and the shock of having an inheritance to claim hadn't seemed such a big deal.

            Now that she was claiming it, it was indeed a big deal. She didn't know just what she was claiming and the excitement that her mother had left something for her other than that old house which had fallen into disrepair since her death sent Gwen into absolute shudders of delight.

            Having known her mother as well as she did, she might have expected that there would be a catch. The goblin brought her down into the bowels of Gringotts via an iron cart, which always made her twice as sick as the usual passenger. They arrived at her mother's vault, which would be the second vault Gwen would closed in such a short amount of time. She worked her way out of the cart with shaking knees and managed not to vomit this time. The goblin opened the door with a silver key and showed her into the vast chamber.

            She was surprised to find only a small black box with a silver handle and silver lock sitting in the center of the floor. She had not known what to expect, but she certainly didn't expect this. It wasn't a tremendous disappointment, but she felt odd just then. She didn't feel it was the right place to open the box, so she picked it up, tucking it under her arm and watched as the goblin placed a red marker on the vault door.

            Had they stayed there much longer they would have seen something very interesting, for four gangly looking goblins swooped in upon the door and tore it all to shreds. There was no use for it, not until someone opened a new account. The pieces of the door were set into a large bin and carted down into even deeper depths to be sorted into parts and later used for a new door.

            As it was, Gwen couldn't concentrate. The only thing that kept her from regretting lunch was the thought of her new black box. There was something in it, her mother wouldn't just leave an empty box as inheritance. She was certain that the box contained something important. She just had to find someplace to open it and explore the contents.

            Before she left the goblin handed her the key to the vault. "It's for the box as well." He said, answering her question before she even thought of it. He had her sign yet another form, stamped it and took it away to be processed. Gwen stepped out into the sunlight and was once again blinded after all the doom and gloom of the inner sanctum at Gringotts.

            She took in the sweet smelling air of Diagon Alley with a refreshing sigh. A harassed looking wizard frowned at her and another witch shook her head. How anyone could enjoy themselves under the fairly stressful conditions of the current world was a mystery to them. Gwen had to fight the giggles all the way into the Leaky Cauldron. It just seemed so much like the Gwen she used to be, the one who chastised herself for worrying over boyfriends when war was looming. It was still looming and had she not worried about her boyfriends she would be so thoroughly depressed that it would almost be better to let the dark wizards and witches win without a fight. At least, that's how Gwen felt. She smiled to herself and sat down at the bar.

            She wasn't sure if she should return to Hogwarts or her mother's house to open the safe box. The more she thought about it though the less she liked the idea of Hogwarts. Snape was there. And Corwin would be looming just over her shoulder. No matter how much she wanted to confront Snape and simply just be with Graves, she couldn't do either just now. Her mother's study seemed like the most appropriate place.

            The beauty of being a fully licensed witch was that travel could be a real snap if you knew how to apparate and used it as often as possible. Gwen had almost altogether abandoned conventional transportation. She smiled as she sank into her mother's soft, velveteen chair. If nothing else her mother and she had always lived comfortably.

            She set the box before her and removed the key from her pocket. She set the key into the lock and turned it, excited to hear a tiny click. There her excitement ended. The lock said clearly, in a quiet voice: "password please."

            Her hand automatically went to slap her forehead, her jaw dropped three more inches than she would've believed humanly possible. Of course there would be another failsafe. Her mother was Captain Cautious. She pulled the key from the lock, and carefully set it into the top drawer. Then she picked up the black box and threw it as hard as she could across the room. She immediately regretted it as she imagined Snape standing before her and wagging his finger in a gesture of disapproval. "Temper, temper." He condescended.

            She picked up the box and set it back on the desk. Now, she had no choice but to travel to France.


	95. Snape's Part Becomes Clear

Episode Ninety Five

Part One

            Gwen remained in her mother's house for a few more days, alerting Aunt Ann to her travel plans and cleaning up some of the mess that a disused house accumulates. She wasn't exactly certain what, if anything, she might find out.

            Her aunt looked pale and thin again, instantly worrying Gwen and putting her own issues on the shelf she babied her aunt for several days before she even remembered why she'd traveled so far in the first place. One stormy afternoon over a cup of tea in Ann's pristine yellow kitchen Gwen stumbled upon her opportunity.

            Ann was asking if she'd been to visit her father's grave. Gwen replied with as little tact as she ever had, "if he even is my father."

            "Now, what's all this about?" Ann asked.

            Gwen explained the innuendo of Professor Snape and the strange dreams of Henry LeFey. Ann looked at her with a mixture of confusion and apprehension. The younger woman sensed immediately that her aunt was holding something back from her. She pressed, heavily until Ann seemed near the breaking point.

            "Gwen, you shouldn't push this any further."

            "Ann." Gwen said with a sudden thrill that she had called her aunt simply Ann, something only an adult niece might do. "I've been avoiding this issue for an entire summer and I think that now I might be getting close to something. If you know anything you must tell me."

            Ann looked at Gwen for a long, somber moment. What she knew was only very sketchy and to fill someone so impressionable with flighty ideas was something she did not approve of. Yet she felt that since Beorc had passed on and left her daughter with so little of the truth that it might be better to tell Gwen something and let her form her own opinions. She stood to put more water on the boil. As she went about fixing the kettle she spoke softly and slowly, without looking at Gwen.

            "It was a very long time ago that I suspected something wrong. It may have been nothing mind you, but since you said something it might turn out to be something very big. I remember George coming home and being very cross with me that afternoon, which is something he rarely ever did. He was upset because we'd been trying for a child and finally he went to the doctor. He was devastated to learn that he was sterile and all our hopes for a child were not to be realized. What made it worse was that Henry, who had been trying for ten years with his own wife to conceive had just received the good news that Beorc was pregnant, with you."

            Ann sat across from Gwen, pushing a fresh cup of tea to the rapt and eager girl. She continued, falling into a faster pace. "It was only a few days later that Beorc came for a visit. She was so excited and I think she wanted to share a bit of her joy with us. But I could tell all the same that something was wrong. I knew she would come again and again until she finally had the courage to get out what she needed to say.

            "Many visits later found us sitting on the back porch, sipping tea and gabbing about what names would be good for a girl baby. She broke down, Gwen, crying and sobbing. I didn't know what I should do, I just asked her: 'what's wrong.' She turned to me all swollen bellied and said in the tiniest voice 'I don't remember.' Of course, I thought that was ridiculous and I told her so, trying to lighten her mood some.

            "She just sobbed on, 'no, I don't remember the night that the baby was conceived.' I didn't know what to make of it. I asked her what, if anything she remembered about that day. She just looked at me as if I'd said the stupidest thing. 'That was well over seven months ago. You expect me to remember that far back?' It was just such a Beorc response that I couldn't help laughing at her. She sighed and said: 'I'm not sure of anything, Ann, but I don't think that this is your brother-in-law's baby.'

            "It didn't seem possible at the time, and she never said another word after you were born. You had your father's hair and that was enough for her. You certainly have his temperament." She looked up at the girl, whose color had gone decidedly white. Gwen sat across from her, her face resting on her hand with the most disconsolate expression.

            "You wanted to know Gwen, that's why I told you."

            "It sounds terribly like a memory charm, doesn't it?"

            "A memory charm." Ann repeated, mulling the idea over. "It makes sense, but who would do such a thing?"

            Gwen sighed. "I might never know. If he wanted to cover his tracks so that no one would ever know he was my father…" Something occurred to her, a half thought that she'd been ignoring since Snape had said it. "Do you know anything about my father?"

            "That's a rather general question Gwen."

            "I'm sorry." She said. "I want to ask something rather sensitive and I'm not sure how to pose it."

            "Just ask Gwen. The truth, I think, is best."

            "Do you know if my dad was a death eater?"

            Ann looked truly scandalized. "Are we talking about Henry LeFey?"

            "Yes." She replied, ashamed she had said anything about it. Ann's face was thinly veiled and the mask of emotions she was putting up wasn't hiding the deep regret she felt inside. Gwen realized soon enough what that mask meant and she understood why Snape had taken such a risk by showing her the Dark Mark. "So it is true?" She said, hardly believing her own mouth had uttered those words.

            Ann nodded her head slightly. It was too painful for her to admit it out loud. She had known of course for many years, but she felt a certain responsibility to keep it from Gwen. Henry had been young and wanted to impress a beautiful Slytherin girl who had captured his heart. He had never meant any harm, or so she told herself. He never meant to really become one of Voldemort's minions.

            Gwen felt the tears slipping down her face, but they hardly seemed to matter at the moment. Snape had told her the truth and for some strange reason that seemed to be the most important piece of information she had learned this afternoon. Snape had been instrumental in this revelatory process. She needed to go back to Hogwarts, right now.

            When Ann looked up, Gwen was gone without a trace and she was regretting dearly her admission, even if it was the truth.

Part Two

She ran down the hall and into Snape's classroom with little concern for the first year students who were enduring their most painstaking double potions lesson to date. "I've just been to see my Aunt Ann." She bristled. "You might've saved me a trip and just told me the truth rather than hinting at it. I know all about the obliviate spell used on my mother, what I don't know is who and I am really burning to know."

"Guenivere, this is not the time nor the place to discuss this." Snape said under his breath, barely maintaining his cool, in control demeanor.

"And when will be a good time for you?" Her face was closed off, the lines around her eyes taking on a hardness that defied diamonds.

"Perhaps in my office, after classes?"

"Fine." She said and stormed off, leaving Snape with a jittery bunch of first year students. They had never seen anyone stand up to Snape and while it was a treat it was also a terror, for Snape rounded on them with twice as much of his usual gusto.

He arrived at his office shortly after the terrified first years dashed from his room, some of them crying for not the first time after a potions lesson. He hardly felt it necessary to lecture Gwen on her dreadful decorum, but he planned to tell her off about her dreadful sense of timing.

"What is it that you want to know, now you've had a chance to cool off some?" He asked, while taking his seat. He seemed unusually calm to Gwen, which immediately set of alarm bells in her head.

"So you weren't lying about my father. Aunt Ann confirmed that he was indeed a death eater. I cannot begin to comprehend it, but it looks like I'm just going to have to live with it. But you didn't tell me about my real father and I think you know a lot more than you're letting on."

Snape took a deep breath. "I don't know who your real father was Guenivere."

She turned her face; she couldn't look at him, even if he was telling the truth.

He immediately felt a pang of discomfort. Once again, he was actually concerned for and caring about this girl and it made no sense to him, whatsoever. He stepped around the desk and touched her arm gently. "I am sorry, but I thought you should at least be tipped in that direction. I assumed your mother would've known something about it and left you some notice."

Gwen looked up at Severus, her eyes filled with salt. "Not a single note." She said. "Only a black box with a password I can't get past. You took a huge risk in trusting me."

He nodded plainly.

"Why?" She asked. As she watched him scramble for an answer she thought she saw the corners of his mouth turn up just slightly in a hidden smile.

"I'm still not sure why." He said finally. "I suppose it just felt right."

Something stirred in Gwen's stomach. "If you don't know who my father is…" She began slowly. "Then you must not be him." She finished with much difficulty.

Snape looked at her as if she had just told him he'd won the Miss America Pageant. She was afraid he was going to laugh at her. Instead he smiled genuinely, something no one at Hogwarts had ever seen and said gently: "no. I'm sorry to have led you to that conclusion. I just wanted to make you think Gwen. Your mother died with so many secrets. You really have no idea."

"No I don't."

"One day you'll find that you're so much stronger because of everything your parents put you through."

Gwen smiled and it was like the sunshine breaking out from behind the clouds. Snape patted her on the shoulder, gave her a fatherly grin and stepped away.

"If you don't mind terribly, I have a great deal of homework to grade."

"I do have one question." She said meekly.

"Go on."

"Why did you become a death eater?"

"Why does anyone do anything? It was a bad decision and I'm paying for it, every day for the rest of my life. It's the risk you take when you do anything of greatness. Good or bad."

She looked at him as if she were seeing a new man, someone she had never known just sprouted out of Snape, a man she had hated for years. But she realized now that he was human, just like anyone else and that he was prone to mistakes. He'd made so many he'd lost track, but he was aiming to make up for them now, even if it was a little slow in coming.

From that day on Gwen considered Severus Snape a good friend. Strange as it was, Snape returned her friendly affection and became something of a late blossoming father figure, even if he never showed it in the classroom.


	96. Avalanche

Episode Ninety Six

Part One

            The search for the knowledge of Gwen's father had come to a temporary and dissatisfactory close. Yet for the time being it would have to do. Gwen was lying on her bed, receiving a tantalizing backrub from Graves when a slicing pain shot across her chest. She clenched her fists, curling into a tiny ball. The pain was something she was unprepared for. She had felt worse, but the surprise coupled with the instant worry the pain caused was nothing she could handle.

            Any time there was pain in her chest, there was trouble.

Part Two

            Graves sat outside Madame Pomfrey's office on the strictest orders that Miss LeFey was not to be disturbed. He had not bothered to don his invisibility cloak, so worried was he about his lady love. The pain she had felt had caused him panic enough, when it didn't stop it caused so much more. He had rushed her down to the infirmary as quickly as he could manage, carrying her tightly in his arms.

            He had been lucky in so far that the hallways had been empty, the students were all in class. He was now tucked just inside the door, so only a student coming to see Poppy might run into him, and the probability that a student would recognize him was fairly slim.

            He clenched his hands and grit his teeth, his brow was knotted furiously with frustration. He couldn't help her, something he hated to admit. He knew that the pain wasn't terribly serious, it was what it portended that had him worried.

            To his left was a white muslin screen, separating the rest of the infirmary from this area. Behind the screen was a girl in agony. Nothing Poppy did could cure her ills. The nurse had never seen someone brave such pain before. While she knew very well that Gwen was in anguish, the girl did not make a sound, or complain one bit.

            She was lying on her side, curled up quietly and sipping some water. There was an empty basin, should she feel the urge to purge her stomach. There was another filled with water and cold compresses that Poppy reapplied to her head from time to time. She couldn't figure out what was wrong and Gwen couldn't communicate why it was happening.

            This continued for several days before finally the pain broke and washed over her like so many waves in the ocean. She spent the first day pain-free just recuperating; she had no desire to relay what she had seen, not yet.

            For the pain had not just been a premonition of things to come, it had brought with it a vision and the vision, not the pain had left her mute.

Part Three

            Gwen looked at Graves with troubled eyes. He was finally allowed to visit her, although only for a short time. He understood immediately that what was troubling Gwen was far more than chest pains. He knew that a great weight had fallen on her shoulders like a mantle of snow, covering a mountain range, making it impossible to cross without an impending avalanche. He feared the avalanche as much as she feared the crossing.

            As it happened Gwen had arranged a meeting with Dumbledore for the next day, fending off Madame Pomfrey's nervous mothering. "This is far more important than my health and honestly I'm feeling so much better."

            Poppy bustled off to help another student who had an unfortunate accident in Greenhouse 3 several beds down. Graves took Gwen's hand in his own. "What are you going to tell him?"

            "I'm not sure yet, but I have to tell him something. This is a warning, a monumental warning. Usually they come when it's too late to do anything, but this one, I think this one may be preventable."

            "What was it?"

            "I can't describe really. It was unspeakable. But I have to figure out a way to speak it. This can't be pushed under the rug."

            Graves squeezed her hand and sent her one of his rare, soul brightening smiles. Her spirits picked up. Even if she had to face this vision by herself, she wasn't alone. That at least was comforting.

Part Four

            Dumbledore could sense the trouble, he knew something was wrong when he heard that Miss LeFey had returned, and he knew that even more trouble was in store when he learned she was in the infirmary.

            He was therefore anticipating his meeting with her with a mixed amount of trepidation and frustration. He had always felt the power inside of her and he couldn't understand why she didn't just tap into it. He felt for a long time that if anyone was meant to defeat the Dark Lord then it should very well be Harry Potter. Guenivere was slowly changing his mind. Not only did she have the capability, but she had the desire as well. Harry had the desire, and certainly the talent, but not the strength. Maybe together they could end it.

            He looked deep into his pensieve, watching the thoughts swirling about the bottom of the bowl. There were so many connections in this bowl, flowing loosely about each other, one decision leading to another, one life bleeding into the next. There was one connection yet that he did not understand, nor did he even notice it clearly. Recent events had brought something to his attention, something from the past. Mage had come back to speak with him briefly, which being rare had alerted him immediately, but current news had also set the thinning hairs on the back of his neck to tingling.

            Guenivere's vision, he felt sure held something of this connection in it, but he couldn't be completely certain until their meeting, still fifteen minutes away. He had never known Gwen to be punctual during their training over a year prior and was therefore surprised when the young woman timidly cleared her throat a quarter of an hour early, standing sheepishly at the top of the staircase.

            She stepped forward, her head a little light. Even after a full day of rest she had not recovered from the blind panic the pain had set her in. She sat in a chair just before the professor's desk and concentrated quietly at a pile of papers thereon and the strange stone pensieve, avoiding his piercing blue gaze.

            "I was expecting we'd have a meeting soon." He said softly. "I am guessing this has nothing to do with coming back to teaching."

            She nodded. Her composure was riding on the strength of Graves' smile from the previous day. She cleared her throat again, willing the words to trickle down the back of her brain onto her tongue. Finally they came, slow and halting all throughout, with difficulty. The need to get them out however, frosted over any desire to hold them back.


	97. Uncloaked

Episode Ninety Seven

Part One

            Having said all she could say, Gwen left Hogwarts the next day. She knew that whether or not she wanted to stay there was of little importance, it was simply the wrong place for her to be. Something in the vision told her that her place would be in France, for just now, for a little while. Ann needed her.

            Graves packed up his bags and said goodbye as well. He had no desire to stay at Hogwarts any longer, not without Gwen. He transfigured himself just enough so no one would recognize him until he could learn exactly how to become an animagus. If Gwen could do it, he felt certain that he could as well. Of course he wouldn't register, so that he could travel with Gwen as an animal, preferably a cat so he would blend in with Lucille, whom he had been caring for in Gwen's absence.

            They moved into a spare room in Ann's tidy little house, attempting to share the feelings that had passed over them both for the last couple of days.

            Gwen could hardly put into words what she had experienced and seen, the tiny glimpse she had of the future seemed like a gigantic puzzle she had to fit together. There was much about her own life intertwined with threads of others' lives and she had to weave them together so that she could see the whole picture. What she had described to Dumbledore had been scraps and pieces of information that didn't seem unified, but he understood it far better than she supposed. He knew which way the wind was blowing and it was not blowing sweetly.

            Graves could only tell her how fearful he felt during the dark time she spent in the infirmary alone, howling on the inside, silent on the surface. He had wanted so desperately to be there with her, but he had suffered the helplessness quietly, in a wooden chair, uncloaked and wearing his pain for all the world to see.

            Over the space of two weeks they communicated delicately and as much as they felt they should, which is never nearly enough. Ann avoided these moments they shared with deft ability. She was a witch after all and simply being so had imparted to Ann a kind of empathic ability. She gave them the space they needed and little by little got to know and understand the man who had faked his death, and to better know the girl she called niece.

Part Two

            The French countryside seemed marvelous to Gwen after the constant gloom of Britain. It was refreshing to run and laugh out doors, the fear of the wizarding community had not yet reached this far. She spent much time out of doors, lazing on the lawn of Ann's house, which sat mid-way between the true country and the urban glamour of the city of Reims.

            Gwen had been frolicking outdoors when something caught her attention. She stood transfixed by the shadow of a tree on the paved over grass, just outside the house. The sun was falling just so, in an inexplicable pattern of light and dark. It had been woven expertly by the fey in a tangle of curves and lines, jagged edges and smooth corners. It was so painstakingly beautiful in such a random universe that you couldn't just walk by it. It would stop you, whatever you were about to do forgotten. It was simply something that had to be appreciated for its unique beauty, for the next day it would be gone and replaced by a new shadow, changed by space and time forever. The fact that it was only there for a short time in an ever changing world is what made her want to just stand there and absorb its stark profile. It was like looking at the soul of the tree, exposed by the angle of the sun.

            Yet being human (or at least partly so) didn't afford one all the time in the world to simply enjoy the majesty of nature. She had bills to pay, a stomach to feed, certain tasks to be accomplished. She shrugged at the weight of the world tugging at her shoulders. It didn't seem to help, trying to shirk her duties. She turned her back on the gorgeous tree shadow and wandered inside to find Graves.

            He was sitting at the kitchen table, sharing an impromptu cup of tea with Ann. Gwen smiled at the beautiful picture they made, sitting quietly, enjoying the silence they created together. Graves looked up nervously, he knew that Ann was aware that he was supposed to be dead and he knew that she would never tell anyone that she was his safe harbor for the time being, but he still didn't know how to act around her.

            Gwen joined them, taking a clean cup from the dish drainer and filling it with cold coffee from the morning's pot. The conversation was light until Gwen brought up the topic of her possible father again.

            She had relayed to Ann several nights ago why she had left so abruptly, trying to explain her urgent desire to confront Snape, her moment of craziness when she thought he might be her father finally catching up to her and how it had turned out to be nothing in the end.

            "I just don't know why my mother never said anything to me." Gwen said quietly.

A thin line appeared in Ann's smooth face. She didn't look as old as she felt. "Why do you think she never told you Gwen? She was never certain. She didn't want to tell you something she was unsure of."

Gwen stared at the floor. Graves stared at his hands. Ann was staring into her tea cup.

"Why is it so important for you to know?" She asked sincerely.

"I want to know what I came from." Gwen replied. No one looked up and silence reigned supreme over the kitchen table for several minutes.

Finally Ann spoke again, shocking the silence and causing everyone to look up, blinking confused. "You were raised by two people who loved you. And as for your father, you know that even if Henry wasn't he wanted to be. Guenivere, sometimes the past is best left with those who are buried."

"I know. I just, I need to know who he really was."

"And I don't blame you for wanting to know. But the moment you find out what you've been searching for your entire reality is going to be altered Guenivere. Everything you know will change."

With Ann's prophetic words still ringing in her ears Gwen stepped outside and hugged the trunk of the tree she had been so taken with earlier. Graves stepped up behind her cautiously. His arm wrapped around her waist and he looked out on the sunny afternoon filled with apprehension.

"You're not going to stop until you find out who, are you?"

"No." Gwen laughed with the kind of humor that brings with it an honest ache. "I want to know if he was my dad and I want to know if he wasn't then who is and is he alive. I want to know why I don't feel satisfied right now with life when I have most everything I want. I want to know why I can't feel and be like everyone else."

Graves sighed into her hair and kissed her sweetly. "Then you know what you have to do."

They remained so, holding onto the tree and each other until the sun set hours later. That night, Gwen's bags were packed again and she was heading back to her mother's house. There was a box that needed to be opened, and she was going to find a way to do it.


	98. The Password

Episode Ninety Eight

            Standing in her mother's study seemed to make something clear in Gwen's mind. It was now imperative for her to open that box. Perhaps the truth about her father would not be within, but she knew that the truth her mother died with would be.

            She sat with her back to the wall, barefoot on her mother's cushy rug. Her feet were sinking into the delicious fabric as she concentrated as much of her brain on the black box as humanly possible. There had to be a way to get passed the password.

            She might have spent days there, on the floor with only her burning desire as company. She would never know afterward because she never asked, didn't put much stock in the Roman calendar.

            Finally it came to her and she wondered how her mother had known. Her mother had seemed almost omnipotent up until that point and it was something she had taken for granted. She had never considered that her mother would know her so well, would know things about her before she did.

            She stood quietly and removed the sleek silver key from the top drawer of the desk. She slid it gently into the lock, which had not complained when she battered it against the wall. It clicked as she turned the key and repeated as if no time had passed: "password please."

            "Agropyron Repens." She held her breath and shuddered when the lock clicked again and the lid popped open. She exhaled heavily. Here it was, answers at last and she didn't have the heart to open the lid any further.

            She set the box on the desktop and leaned her head onto her hands, staring down at it with something of regret. After all that trouble she just didn't want to know anymore.


	99. Declaration of War

Episode Ninety Nine

            She received the news that very afternoon from Harry's snowy owl Hedwig. She swooped into the window that Gwen had propped open with an old, heavy, leather bound book. She lighted on the desk while Gwen was still staring disconsolately at the truth she was now aiming to ignore and had taken great pains to find.

            The young woman looked over, seeming suddenly like a very little girl and she smiled lightly at Hedwig. "Sorry I don't have any scraps to offer you right off. If you'll give me a minute I'll see if there's anything in the kitchen."

            Hedwig bobbed her head back and forth to gesture 'no.' Gwen was just a little bit surprised, but at this point anything seemed possible. The owl held out her leg dutifully and Gwen removed the lengthy parchment gently. As she unrolled it Hedwig flew further into the house via the open door into the hall. Gwen figured smartly that the owl would be removing any mice that had taken up residence.

            She noticed Harry's cramped style of hand and glanced to the bottom to see his John Hancock. She read intently.

            "_Dear Gwen,_

_            You might want to be aware that Professor Dumbledore has officially declared war on Lord Voldemort and has openly criticized the Ministry of Magic for not having done something sooner. Many wizards and witches still don't believe him, even in light of all that's been happening, but they do believe that something is wrong so they've agreed to help, even if it is just to sort out all of the confusion of late. I'm taking a front line position in the Order and we're planning more aggressive searches of suspected dark wizards' homes. Dumbledore is looking to find another place for any that we catch, he doesn't want them falling into the hands of the dementors, who will more than likely side with Voldemort. As of right now we are acting as bounty hunters, working outside the law. As a result Dumbledore has been removed from his position as headmaster of Hogwarts and Professor McGonagall has been asked to take over. She doesn't seem really enthusiastic about the prospect, but she will accept it rather than have someone else take it and 'fudge' it up. Some parents have even removed their students from the school, mostly Slytherins, which isn't a huge surprise. I suspect that they plan to attack the school again. If you are near the school I would like it very much for you to return. We could certainly use your help._

_Yours,_

_            Harry_"

            She put the letter down. In all of her searching she had not been paying proper attention to what was happening around her. It felt like the world lurched forward and sucked the strength out of her body. She shut the lid of the black box and decided that once again, the truth would have to wait. Harry needed her.


	100. Whether or Not She Agreed

Episode One Hundred

            She was running up the lawns once again, her disheveled hair and untidy appearance hardly a concern in light of the news. She wiped her sweaty palms on the sides of her wrinkled khaki pants and straightened out the pale blue t-shirt she'd been wearing for days. She took a deep breath and uttered the last password for Dumbledore's staircase in a hurried tone. The statue leapt out of her way and she was soon whirling to the top.

            Harry stood as she entered. "That was quick."

            "I was closer than you might have thought." She nodded politely to Dumbledore who was seated as usual, behind his great desk. He nodded in return, looking three times older than he had the last time Gwen had stood across from him. "Big tidings." She said.

            "Big changes." Came the familiar voice of her former guardian.

            Gwen turned to see Minerva standing in the corner, her arms folded over her chest, her lips pursed. "Sorry I haven't written." She apologized swiftly.

            "We can talk later." The older woman said wisely. There was much more important business on hand.

            "Your vision has set off quite a chain reaction." Dumbledore said quietly. "It seems that it was a monumental warning. Far be it for me to condone war, but it seemed the only possible answer."

            "I've heard that logic before." Gwen said. "Far be it for me to be a fluffy bunny, but I don't think war is the answer either."

            "Regardless war is upon us." He replied, looking at her as if he'd never seen her properly before.

            She hugged her body tight with her arms, fearing they would shake terribly if she didn't keep them close to her trunk. "So what now?" She asked.

            "The Order has been preparing an offensive strategy and our defenses have been strengthened ten fold. I'm certain you are aware that the school may come under attack as a result of all these actions."

            She nodded. Harry's letter had said so and she never doubted his word. She hadn't seen him in over four months and the change was amazing. Maybe she hadn't been paying attention before and the change had been something gradual, something you couldn't see from close up. Now that they had been separated for a time she noticed how time had worked its magic. Harry was all grown up looking, mature and standing tall. They had discussed briefly his plans. He intended to go into wizard law and was preparing to go to law school for the spring semester.

            His letter had explained: "_it's not like normal law school. It's specifically designed around wizard law. I'm looking at another three years of school but then I can preside over official hearings and other such things. I don't know if this is what I saw for myself when I learned I was a wizard, but I think this will be a good thing._"

            His hair had become no less untidy, but somehow he had grown into it. His eyes still held that infinite sadness locked deep within, but now it seemed to complete the picture of a man, not a boy who could not understand his loss. She hoped he would suffer no more such loss, but being human one's lot is suffering mixed with moments of triumph and joy. She could not guarantee that he would never have to bury another before himself.

            She did not voice her thoughts, standing there so still and once again angry. Suffering yes, was a part of life. But why would someone want to cause so much for so many?

            She listened on as Dumbledore detailed the so far sketchy plans of the Order and smiled at Minerva as she conceded to Hogwarts becoming the base of operations. Her godmother behaving so scandalously was something she had not expected.

            Three hours later and she was holed up in her room again, sending an owl to Ann and one to Graves detailing her new plan of action. Whether or not she agreed, she was needed at Hogwarts and would be helping out her godmother and Harry while she could.


	101. A Simple Solution

Episode One Hundred and One

Part One

            The plan was subtle in the effect that no one saw it coming. Dark wizards were taken by surprise by the newly dubbed 'Bounty Hunters.' The raids were effective and while the Ministry had its panties in a bunch over the new methods they could not complain about the number of dark wizards being removed from power.

            They complained ardently about the location Dumbledore had chosen to house these criminals. No one thought that the Chamber of Secrets could be put to such use, but it was a simple matter of adding steel bars and minimal furniture, it already had the feel of a prison.

            More students were pulled from the institution and the number of students was at a record low by Christmas holidays. No one wanted their children living and sleeping above a prison filled with malignant and festering evil. Minerva didn't know how to change public sentiment since she agreed with it.

            Only one thing could change the status of 'war.' It was as if Dumbledore had been waiting for it, known it was coming. The first in a line of many attacks had been attempted on the school, the third so far in recent history.

            The students were protected but with each new attack more were removed and suddenly Hogwarts was a ghost town. Its doors had closed officially for the first time in over a thousand years. There were no students to teach, no reason to keep it open as a school.

            Hogwarts had become a prison, and Dumbledore's plan was coming into full sway. Now the ancient castle could really become a battleground. He would force the fight on his own territory.

Part Two

            Gwen looked sideways at Harry. The long tables had been vacated by students and refilled with all sorts of Order wizards and witches. Many of them were here as prison guards, armed with wands that they used as stun guns. Others were here as support in case of another of  the now frequent attacks.

            Harry returned Gwen's imperious glance. A question passed between them and Gwen's mouth couldn't work out the answer just yet. They had both felt it, like the cold hand of death slapping them. Voldemort was near and feeling deadly.

            They stood abruptly, and didn't bother to hide their hasty retreat into the entrance hall. They rushed up the stairs with no need for words. Dumbledore needed to know immediately that his psychic beacons were on high alert.

            Even knowing that _he _was near they were surprised to find that the view of the front lawn was obscured by hundreds of squat black tents. It had stopped them dead in their tracks at the top of the first landing on the staircase. It seemed that the dark forces had mobilized and were taking Dumbledore's forced hand seriously. They would fight and they would fight at Hogwarts.

            The view was terrible and awe inspiring all in the same breath.

            Gwen's heart did a little jump as she spotted a bright blond helmet of hair standing amongst a group of chatting wizards. He was the only one who was unmasked and Gwen recognized that proud profile. Her hopes that Draco would change had obviously not panned out.

            She shook her head and continued up the stairs. If she could ever help that boy get his head turned around now was not the time. Dumbledore needed to know that Voldemort was near and the sudden appearance of all of those tents could not go unnoticed either.

            They continued their way up the stairs after a moment of awestruck silence. Their journey was slower now, hindered by a dragging sensation they couldn't fend off. Their feet lugged and each step became an inward battle to continue. The chore of getting to Dumbledore's office had suddenly become near impossible.

            When finally they arrived at the foot of the stairs they looked at each other like people who had crossed the sea in a dinghy. "I don't remember the stairs ever being that trying." Harry said breathlessly.

            "Me either. Something is definitely out of place."

            When they entered the office they found it empty. Each of them drew a heavy breath and exchanged another silent volley of question and answer. The entire thing was being played out like an old silent movie without all of the wild gesticulation. There was an understanding that had been built over their few short years of friendship that had lain dormant for months. It was now actively allowing them communication without words.

            The queer dumb show played itself out and finally Gwen understood. The castle's enchantments and protections had been slowly whittled down over the last few months by those hardened individuals in residence of the Chamber of Secrets. The reinforcements had arrived and it wouldn't be much longer before chaos reigned. The old magic was being replaced with new magic for a dark purpose. The stairs had become a trap.

Part Three

            There was no way to apparate within the castle grounds. The risk of getting stuck in the sluggish enchantment on the stairs was not one either Harry or Gwen was willing to take. So they sat in Dumbledore's office trying to think of some way to alert the others to the presence outside and the well laid plans from below.

            "If we could get a hold of an owl." Harry mused.

            "That would be fantastic, but…" A thought occurred to her and her eyes grew big. "I can fly over the stairs and it might not affect animals. I can't believe I didn't think of it before."

            "Think of what?" Harry asked.

            "I'm an animagus Harry. I can turn into a swan."

            Harry smiled. "It's brilliant."

            "I only hope it works. I'll try and find Dumbledore and then I'll see if we can get you down." Without another moment wasted she transformed before his eyes and become the snowy white swan with the tiny star etched in her breast. She took to flight without hesitation and floated down the stairs with ease. Perhaps if she could get a broom to Harry he could fly over it as well.

            She did not find Dumbledore, but she ran headlong into Minerva and while returning to her human-like self began a detailed account of what she had seen and felt and the staircase conundrum. Minerva nodded as if she were not truly surprised by the transpiring of these events. "And you have not seen Professor Dumbledore?"

            "Neither hide nor hair." Gwen replied. "But we must do something, with or without him."

            Minerva appraised the young woman slightly. She had remembered very well her god-daughter's determination and courage, but she had never seen it in play. She nodded brusquely as Gwen turned away. "But first thing's first. I must get Harry down that staircase."

            It was as easy as she had assumed. She found a broom quickly enough, tied it so that it would hang from her neck and not strain her wings. She floated it up to him and he floated down with her, still in swan form. They met Minerva in the Great Hall, stopping short to listen. She was explaining something to the wizards and witches gathered and they were all very rapt.

            Gwen recognized that stature, the tone of voice she was using. She was delivering an address to her troops.

            The war was on.


	102. She Shivered Slightly

Episode One Hundred and Two

            In all of the terrifying visions Gwen had witnessed intertwined with the mundane she had not seen the battlefield, covered in wizards and witches, wands lay broken, crushed under the weight of trampling foes. The earth was scarred and broken, torn up in giant pieces as the fighting waged on, turning the snowy landscape into mud. The wizarding world hadn't seen this kind of all out fighting for centuries.

            While Gwen had a talent and a taste for incapacitating dark wizards the splendor of the thing disappeared when it was on such a huge stage. She stood with her back to the wall of the castle, her arms wrapped around her chest, her wand curled tightly in her fist. The war was becoming brutal and she wanted no part of that.

            She was surprised to hear a voice she recognized very close to her ear. "And it wages on."

            "Graves?" She asked quietly into the void, watching as her breath turned into mist on the chilly air.

            "Yes. Incognito again. And I was just starting to get used to being without this old cloak."

            "Where's Ann?"

            "Still in France. We heard the news and I came here immediately. I'm relieved to see you're not in too much trouble."

            "Not currently. But this has been going on for days." She shivered slightly.

            Could she have seen his face she might have noticed the pain and disregarded his callous tone. "They asked for brutal, that's what they'll get."

            "I wish I could see it that way." She said softly. She squeezed her wand tighter in her grip and weak sparks shot out of the tip. She noticed and half-smiled, amused that the inner flame was still kicking, even while she was fighting to maintain control of it. She feared that if she entered the fray now that the flame would consume her, take control and obliterate anything that stood in her way.

            She felt for the first time in her life that this had been her purpose all along.

            "Shall we go inside?" Graves suggested.

            "Sure." She replied, giving one last heave of breath and a glance at the battle torn grounds of Hogwarts.

            Inside was a different feeling, one of stifling and weariness. This is where the good wizards and witches came to rest and tend to wounds, those that had not fallen at least. The Great Hall had been transformed, filled with sleeping cots and white linen curtain dividers to set apart the beds of the injured and ill.

            A boy rushed past Gwen and bumped into Graves hidden under his cloak, but he did not seem to notice in his hurry that he had run into something that was not there. He ran straight over to Minerva McGonagall who was standing in the entrance to the Great Hall. He spoke even more hurriedly than he had run to her and was soon running back out, seeking someone on the battlefield.

            Minerva pursed her lips at Gwen's entrance. "You shouldn't be out there." She said in a stiff tone. She worried whenever her god-daughter ventured out of the castle these days.

            "I'm ok." Gwen replied. "What was that all about?"

            "Some intelligence as to the whereabouts of a certain individual that we've all been seeking."

            "Dumbledore?"

            "They haven't found him yet, but they think they may know where he's been."

            "Why would he disappear at a time like this?" Graves said.

            Minerva jumped back and looked wildly around for the source of the new voice.

            "It's Corwin." Gwen said softly.

            "Sorry ma'am." He said. "I can't exactly make my presence known to everyone here."

            "No, you can't exactly." Minerva replied, her nerves raw and taut.

            "So, where do they think he's been?" Gwen asked changing the subject.

            Minerva drew a deep breath, trying to draw some courage from the air and finding that there was none to be drawn. "He was seen momentarily in the Forbidden Forest last night by one of our scouts. He may be searching for You-Know-Who. What better place for him to hide?"

            Graves nearly laughed. "With all the other beasties and ghoulies."

            "The fey are there too." Gwen said. She looked between her god-mother and the empty space she presumed to be Graves. "Maybe they know something."

            "I don't think it would be a good idea for you to go wandering around the forest alone, Guenivere." Minerva said sourly.

            "I won't be alone." Gwen said and threw her most hopeful glance to Graves' invisible form.

            "No, she won't be." He added. "But we're not leaving until first light tomorrow."


	103. The Dilemma of Reunion

Episode One Hundred and Three

Part One

            They ventured from the castle two lonely figures. Each was wearing a thick black cloak which silenced nearly all of their movements. The cat like stealth Graves had used all those years ago to sneak in and out of the castle came back to him quickly and no one noticed him or the short, curvy figure beside him.

            Harry was the only one who saw them. Ever since his exchange with Gwen on the staircase he seemed to always know her location. He leapt from his camp bed just outside the castle, for now the fighting was at a standstill and most of the soldiers slept with only a few scouts on watch for either side. Yet none of the scouts noticed when all three figures moving through the gloom of the new morning were swallowed by the inky black shadows from the trees of the Forbidden Forest.

            He followed them at a distance, careful not to alert them to his presence. He wasn't certain why, but he didn't want them to know that he was with them. He only wanted to follow and to know what this was all about, but not be known himself.

            Gwen's feet led her to the mound quickly and she stopped. Harry ducked behind a tree and tried very hard to slow his breathing so he could listen. "I have to go in alone." She said clearly.

            What Graves said was muffled. She replied, "I know, but if you come in you can't get back out until Gwynn Ap Nudd. I need you in this world and while I would feel better to know you were safe with the fey… I need you here."

            Graves nodded. "I'll be here."

            She smiled for him, leaned up to kiss him and when they sighed their breath formed tiny rivulets of mist that curled into romantic little shapes. The mist floated away on some queer, fey magic and carried with it a tiny bit of hope.

            Gwen stepped out of sight.

            She had been gone a long time when Harry's leg cramped up from leaning against the tree so heavily. He moaned slightly and regretted it instantly.

            "You can come out now Harry." Graves said.

            Harry drew a deep, cold breath. It woke him some, but it didn't wash away the sleepy feeling in his brain. He stepped over to the taller man slowly.

            "I know, there's something about this place that's not quite real. It makes you dreamy."

            Harry looked at him as if he didn't understand what he was saying, even though he did. He shook his head after a tense moment of discomfort. He liked Graves, but he didn't want to. Both men stood silent for a long time. They couldn't think of anything to say about the silence that had fallen between them since Harry had assumed him dead and learned again of his resurrection. They had not seen each other in as many years and didn't know how to begin speaking to one another.

Part Two

            Gwen ventured down the familiar steps, her heart beating heavily in a rhythm she was sure felt familiar. She noticed that the great silver table that had been there the last time she visited was still there, still unfinished. Some of it had been inlayed with gems in a multitude of colors, but it appeared that the tools to finish it had been abandoned long ago.

            "Gemma?" She asked timidly into the cavernous space. There was no reply, so she trekked further in. The mound was a warm and toasty cocoon. There was a delicious smell drafting through the malleable walls, like vanilla cookies and hot cocoa, mixed to the point of intoxication. She looked fore and aft, but it appeared completely deserted at this level.

            She stepped through the first wall, unsure of herself but stumbled into a great room with a crackling fireplace and merry laughter ringing from the corners. There were fey all about the room, dancing, eating and making merry. She stood on the perimeter unaware of how strange this might look to someone truly on the outside. The fey part of herself was so taken up with the jolliness that the human part had nearly forgotten why she had come in the first place.

            Gemma spotted her from the other side of the room and rushed over to her. She pulled her back into the first room and Gwen's head began to clear immediately. She shook it dazedly, surprised that the sounds and smells were now muffled and that she could think plainly once again.

            "You've changed." Said her great-great-grandmother, observing her as one would a show dog. Gwen was surprised by the cool appraisal and meant to voice her indignation but she had more important business. She made a hurried apology for not having come sooner and explained her errand.

            "Yes, he has been wandering about for days now."

            "Do you know why?"

            "Who knows the mind of a human better than another human? His reasons are unclear to me." Gemma replied.

            "Do you know where he is now?"

            "Not currently. He is in the forest. I'm sure you can find him from that much information."

            Something had definitely changed in the way the old faerie regarded the young woman before her. Gwen felt an icy pain in her heart, as if Gemma cared so little she could stab her. She understood the urgency of finding Dumbledore, but she wanted this cleared up before she left the mound again.

            "What's wrong?" She asked.

            "Nothing's wrong dear."

            "No, something's wrong." Gwen looked at her with defiance in her light brown eyes.

            "I will tell you again nothing's wrong."

            "Ok, then what's changed."

            "Ah, now I think we can get somewhere."

            Gwen looked at the older fey with deep scrutiny. Her brow crinkled, her right eyebrow cocked, her lip pursed to the left all made for a funny picture, but neither woman felt like laughing.

            "Sit." Gemma said, as a chair appeared under her bottom. Gwen sat reluctantly and folded her hands in her lap demurely. She looked the very picture of a lady. "I have spoken to the Stag King since your last visit to us. He has informed me of some things that I hardly feel qualified to relay, but you must know that it changes the nature of our relationship."

            "Well I know now." Gwen interrupted pointedly.

            "Yes, of course. The truth is you just don't belong to us anymore."

            "Us as in the fey?"

            "Us as in the sellie. You are unsellie through and through."

            Gwen shook her head, squinting her eyes and trying to make sense of what had just been said. "I'm unsellie?"

            "Which would explain why the King took such an interest in you."

            "Yeah I guess." Gwen said. "But if I'm unsellie that means that Henry LeFey…"

            "Was not your father, as you've been suspecting for awhile now."

            "You didn't know?"

            "No, but I can see it now. It shines through your very skin."

Part Three

            Looking for Dumbledore seemed nothing more than a great distraction to Gwen. As always, she had something else to think about. The three friends picked their way around the forest as a tight knit group, but had no luck on the first day. They returned to the castle with a firm confirmation of the scout's findings. Dumbledore was haunting the Forbidden Forest and Gwen figured that she knew why. He was looking for Voldemort.

            She didn't voice this opinion to anyone, but Harry and Graves both silently agreed. They could feel it in the air and Corwin's forearm had burned while in the forest. That was a sure sign that the Dark Lord was near.

            Gwen didn't tell the boys about the rest of her exchange with Gemma. She was still too hurt, still too stricken that a wall had been built between her and her supposed great-great-grandmother over something so silly as blood. She didn't yet have any firm proof that Henry LeFey was not her father, but she had more than one verbal confirmation that it was so.

            All she really wanted to do was curl up on her window bench in her little room at Hogwarts and sleep it off, soaking up the rays of sun. She would have been there just now but Graves had insisted that she stay in the Great Hall with everyone else, so he could keep close and keep watch for her.

            It was a good idea, but Gwen couldn't get comfortable with all the noise. People kept shifting all around, there was the low droning of the sick folks in hospital, the occasional clang of dishes from the kitchens down below and on more than one occasion a messenger would run in out of breath and pant out a dispatch to someone standing close by. There was no break from the monotonous noise of living, breathing people on every side.

            So it was that Gwen ended up wandering around the Forbidden Forest accompanied by the dogged Graves. She had tried, ardently so to slip past his attention, but as she couldn't tell if he was sleeping or not underneath his invisibility cloak she picked the wrong time to stage a revolution. He grabbed her ankle and if it wasn't for her presence of mind she would have screamed and leapt out of her skin.

            As it was he practically dragged her out into the hall to have a word, but it was occupied which led to Gwen leading Graves into the forest. It was the one place no one else would go, so they were safe in the knowledge that they would be left to their own devices out here.

            "What's the big deal?" He asked only mildly disappointed. He had realized long ago that the fey part of herself hated to be tied down.

            "I just needed some air." She said, crossing her arms over her chest.

            "Something's going on with you."

            She sighed and looked sideways into the trees. "Yeah, but it's not anything I'm ready to talk about just yet."

            There was a light mist rolling over the ground and the late morning sun looked peaked as it streamed through the trees, as if it would rather just set now and save itself the trouble later. Graves squatted down to the moist earth and picked up a loose handful. He shook it about gently, watching it stream from his fingers. Somehow, that simple act eased the trouble knot in his gut.

            "Do you think we'll find Dumbledore?" He asked.

            "I don't know." She replied deeply. "I don't know anything anymore."


	104. Agropyron Repens

Episode One Hundred and Four

            Gwen would have been content to remain there, not so deeply in the woods that they could get lost. She would have been almost happy to plop onto the dewy dirt path and pick blades of grass idly with Graves. She would have loved to spend just a little more quiet time here, but it was not to be so.

            A great crashing noise from the lawn of Hogwarts demanded their attention and they left the sweet idleness of the woods to discover its source.

            As it turned out the fighting had begun in earnest early in the morning. Those who had been straggling on the lawn didn't want to straggle anymore. They wanted this conflict finished this very afternoon. The dark wizards and witches remaining were attacking with a zeal Gwen easily recognized. She had felt the way when the death eaters attacked the school the second time and she sortied with the rest of the teachers to stop them. There was a reckless abandon in that venture and these warriors were now in that same mode.

            The same could not be said of the wizards and witches flying under the banner of the Order of the Phoenix. They looked weary, tired and unorganized. Dumbledore's disappearance and so far delayed return had been a real blow to their side. Gwen blinked in the gloom; the mist seemed to be growing and it was swallowing the last of the battlefield.

She had a thought and grabbed onto Graves hand. "Just let me borrow some of your energy." She said quickly.

He didn't ask nor protest this strange request. He had a memory from the dream world of something rather similar occurring once when they were doing spell work. He held onto her hand tightly and it was almost as if they'd become one. She spoke softly: "Witchgrass." She waited a long quiet moment in the deadly silent woods. Nothing happened. It wasn't working. "Um, Beauvois." Still, nothing. Finally she set her teeth and whispered. "Agropyron Repens." There was a rushing sound accompanied by the feeling of being watched. "You came." She said, not needing to turn around to see the Stag King standing behind her and Graves.

"You called." He intoned in perfect English.

Graves didn't speak, nor did he dare turn around. He knew something important was happening and he was not about to interrupt because of his burning curiosity.

"I didn't know what else to do. I think we're losing."

The Stag King nodded. "I think so too."

"Can you help?" She asked apprehensively.

He stepped around to face her and gazed at her levelly. "I have nothing to gain."

"And I have everything to lose. Everything and everyone I love is riding on this last battle. If we lose now, there's no hope for the future."

The Stag King smiled enigmatically. What he was thinking she could not tell, but she felt a warmth spreading through her limbs. She had felt this once before, while she was in his care. She didn't know it just then, but every member of the Order, any wizard or witch fighting for freedom was feeling the same warmth, the same resurgence of hope.

"If that doesn't do it, then nothing will." The king said and disappeared. The mist began to clear and Graves squeezed Gwen's hand.

"Whatever that was, I think it worked."

The battle was at a pitched level, but things had changed in the settling of the mist. The Order was forging ahead and the dark forces were beginning to retreat. They were going to get their quick finish, but it was not going to be in their favor. Those that ran were stunned and those that fought were dueled until they fell. The Chamber was filled that evening with the last of the dark wizards who had dared to fight and those who ran in fear and didn't make it to the false refuge of the Forbidden Forest.

There were only four noticeable absences from the castle that evening. Dumbledore had still not returned. Draco and Lucius Malfoy had not been caught, but Gwen knew that they had been in the vicinity of the battle. And of course, Lord Voldemort had not been seen or found at any point during the day.

The celebration that night was postponed because the work was still not finished. Not only did they need to find a way to refortify the Chamber and return much of the castle's enchantments to their prior state but many felt that until Voldemort was brought to justice there was no point in celebrating.


	105. Down the Rabbit Hole

Episode One Hundred and Five

            A few days passed with only hard work to finish. Charms were set up all around the Chamber of Secrets to prevent any breakouts until a better system could be accomplished. None of the wizards or witches guarding were allowed wands down below, for fear that if even a single dark wizard or witch laid fingers on one all havoc would break loose.

            Even without wands the dark forces held in captivity were dangerous. A select few had been studying for years and had mastered an ancient magical art that didn't require a wand. It was something like the fey magic that Gwen could invoke, and even a bit like the alternative magical language she was still trying to scry, Ouranian Barbaric.

            This had been discovered after the whole staircase fiasco and these individuals had been weeded out and put into solitary confinement cells.

            This was not Gwen's only concern. Harry still felt that Voldemort was near and was waiting for the perfect moment to strike. This sounded highly reasonable to Gwen and she started patrolling the perimeter of the forest when she wasn't needed elsewhere. Graves, who was still anonymously hidden in his cloak traveled with her at all times, and they had taken to sleeping in her room, curled up side by side.

            One particular evening they were out with Harry, walking the line between castle and woods when they saw a dark figure walk quickly away from the edge of the forest and journey deeper in. It didn't take any prompting for all three of them to break into a run.

            The pursuit took them deeper into the forest than Gwen had ever been and led to an unfamiliar clearing. The sky was ebony and tiny pricks of starlight could be seen from here, sprinkling the sky with pale dots of color. The trees were thick all around the enclosure, so thick that it seemed unnatural. In the very center of the clearing was a discolored spot of snow that seemed gray in the pristine patch of clean white.

            The figure they had pursued so far had disappeared into thin air, or so it seemed. That is until Graves, who threw off his invisibility cloak followed the rushed footprints into the gray spot of snow. He felt an immediate tug downward as if he'd been sucked into the ground. Harry and Gwen scrambled to the spot and felt the same sensation as they stepped into the gray snow.

            It was dark, pitch black. Gwen could only feel Harry at her left elbow and Graves at her right because there was no way to see anything from this vantage point. She felt almost as if a cloak had been pulled over her head and it was stifling to breath. Any sound fell dead and she didn't dare to speak in any case. All three of them moved forward, more out of a need to escape the muffling quality of the space they occupied than out of any curious desire to explore.

            Thirty steps later the air began to thin out. Ten steps after that and sound began to trickle in, tiny cave sounds like dripping water up ahead and the shuffle of their feet as they lurched forward. Another couple of steps and they could see a wane, dancing light up ahead, splashing the left cave wall as if it were firelight coming from an opening into a room.

            They had not been mistaken in this assumption and were soon upon the opening. They entered cautiously, with wands out, no need to tell each other what they were thinking and what they intended to do next. However they need for words arose quickly. There was a body lying on the ground before the dying fire.

            Gwen rushed over and knelt beside the figure with the gleaming head of sleek, blond hair.

"Malfoy." Harry said in a deadly tone.

Gwen looked up at him nervously. His wand arm twitched and he was raising it evenly with Malfoy's head. She needed to stop this before it went even further. "Harry, think about it." She said, trying to think of a good argument. Then it occurred to her. "He wouldn't be laying here unless he'd done something to help us. Maybe he finally did stand up to his dad." She laid a finger on his neck and leaned her head into his chest listening, checking for vitals. "He's out cold, but still breathing." She said.

"Leave him, we haven't got time for this." Graves said. He had just as much reason as Harry to try and kill Malfoy, but now was not the time to act on it.

Harry looked mutinous. "If this is part of your feel-good Malfoy plan I'd say you picked a real shitty time to work on it."

Gwen kissed Malfoy's forehead before she stood and jogged over to where Graves was standing quietly. Next to him Harry was stamping impatiently.

"What was that all about?" He asked irritated.

"Fey protection spell. The least I could do was ensure he'd be safe. Once he's conscious he can defend himself."

Harry sighed. He couldn't argue with Gwen when she looked deadly and benevolent in the same space. Her charity to the slimy bastard had been one thing. That she was ready to drop whoever had dropped Malfoy was completely another and Harry found that surprising.

The three of them left Malfoy behind when they discovered another door in the room, leading to a torch lit path. This they followed tentatively, too anxious to talk. The walls were dank and grown over in some spots by dark, springy moss. The torches were hung in brackets every twenty feet and in the dark void between each their steps slowed a little. They came to the end of the long hall and found three portals. It seemed almost too much of a coincidence that there were three of them and three openings in the wall.

Gwen looked from Harry to Graves. She stepped before them, blocking the passage. "Everyone take a door."

Neither boy really thought to argue with her even given the dangers of taking such action. The idea just seemed right. Graves stepped to the right, Harry stayed where he was and Gwen took the left. There was no word at their separation, no advice or comforts to give each other before they journeyed in their separate ways.

There was only the final sigh as Graves set his teeth and braved forward. There was only the tense look from the side as Harry stepped into the abyss. There was only Gwen standing before the darkened arch, her fist clenched and her future waiting.


	106. Deeper In

Episode One Hundred and Six

Part One

            Graves looked into the darkness with the apprehension of someone approaching the end of something important to them. He didn't want this to be over, but he wasn't aware of what "this" was. The hole he had entered led to another cave, similar to the one before, like a great long hallway lit only by torches in brackets.

            He walked along for no more than five minutes, but with each inhaled breath it seemed so much longer. Time was such an escapable thing that without a watch one could hardly rely on their own sense to tell what hour of the day it was or how many hours had passed in the all encompassing, dark silence.

            There was a light up ahead, traveling towards him as if someone were carrying a lantern before them. Graves concealed himself in the invisibility cloak before the approaching figure drew evenly with him. He squashed himself against the wall until he could tell who the torch bearer was.

            As he saw the pointed but pretty features it became clear who he was looking at. He had seen this face many time in the firelight in the woods. While many had chosen to remain masked as the Dark Lord returned to power, Lucius Malfoy stood out among his companions. His naked bravery had won him favor with Lord Voldemort and while others still shuddered to even think of such things, Malfoy had played his cards correctly.

            Until his son had joined, shortly after his graduation from Hogwarts. He had only been a member for a few months, but the boy was sulky and at times whiny. He was not the shining example of strength and composure his father had proved to be. Draco was not an asset to the death eaters and if Lucius cared to remain so he had to do something about this little problem his child was creating.

            So it was that Draco had ended up incapacitated on the floor of the barren cavern. He had spoken out to his father about how the war was carrying on one time too many. When the war was ended and most of the death eaters broken and running scattered through the Forbidden Forest to face werewolves, giant spiders and all the other terrors of the woods, Draco remained hidden in the cavern in the woods, the refuge of the top leaders.

            He had said something along the lines of "I told you so" and the elder Malfoy was quick to silence the boy before any of the others heard. They were not entirely defeated. In fact the wounds and blood spilled on the battle field that last day were merely an affront to the Dark Lord's true power. He would return with or without the aid of his followers.

            All of this information Lucius Malfoy was privy to and now he had only to clean up his baggage left on the floor. Killing Draco would be easy. He had no real attachment to the boy and if he wasn't going to play the rules he wasn't going to play at all. Disposing of the body wouldn't provide a real problem either, for this sort of thing was commonplace to a death eater. The only real problem he could possibly face was the explanation to his wife, Narcissa. She might argue that Lucius hadn't really given his son a chance and that perhaps it was her fault for fussing over him too much as a baby.

            He sighed as he passed Graves, thinking of what best to say to the sour faced woman he had married right out of school. Graves felt only the thick malice lingering on the air like a perfume that Malfoy wore daily. He followed the man, slowly and quietly and discovered his plans only when the man stopped over his son, his wand pointed down in a deadly arch. He spoke the first word as if it were a silken snake, sliding off his tongue to swallow Draco whole. "Avada…"

            Graves pulled his wand and before he could stop himself, stunned Lucius. He knew he wouldn't have long, so he dragged Draco into a corner of the room, stunned him again so he wouldn't wake and give himself away and covered him with the invisibility cloak.

            Graves ran back down the corridor, and while he wanted to follow the left path that lead to Gwen he knew that he still hadn't discovered where the right path lead to. He took a deep breath and began to run, making up all the time he had wasted protecting Draco. He found that the other end lead to another chamber, like a sitting room and another hall and so on, like a modern day conference center in a creepy hotel. He decided that this was not anything he needed to worry about and headed back to the room where the Malfoys lay stunned.

Part Two

            Harry tried not to look behind him, but the feeling that someone was watching him was all around and upon him.

            This hallway was no different from the others. The torches hung in brackets at different intervals, lighting only a little of the way, the rest of which was dark and felt impassable, even though he stepped through it every few feet.

            After a great length of time however he realized that this hall didn't lead to anything. The torches continued on endlessly before him and endlessly behind him, but there was no obvious indication that this was anything more than an endless hallway.

            He stood perfectly still, listening for any noise that might suggest he should continue on. He heard nothing except the familiar cave sounds he had been hearing, minus the shuffles of his feet and the ripples of his robe. He decided that this endless hall was just that and turned around.

            He traveled back to the main room, finding Graves leaning against the mantel of the fireplace, his arms wrapped around his chest and his wand out. He saw that Lucius Malfoy was out cold on his face on the floor, and he saw a foot, sticking out from under Grave's invisibility cloak. He didn't ask, he simply took his wand out to hold in his hand and joined his friend by the fireplace.

Part Three

            Gwen's journey was longer and darker than any so far. The torches were guttering in their brackets as the air took on a deeper chill. There was a breeze here, but it felt unreal. It screamed to get back and stay away, but since she had come so far she couldn't just step back and step away.

            The final torches were not lit, but she could see just a little from the torches further back as their light stretched out to guide her. There was a solid wall before her, but putting her hand up to it she felt that the breeze flowed through and she realized this was a trick wall, something like the ones in the Faerie Mound.

            She stepped ahead without wasting time to think on it. She had acted on haste before and it almost never turned out well, but if she had waited to think on it her courage would've faltered and she would never have stepped through.

Part Four

The Dark Lord had killed many wizards and witches without a backward glance. He was no stranger to indiscriminate killing. Yet when this young witch had entered his chamber he could not simply dispose of her. She hadn't taken her wand out of her black robes. She stood defiant and unwisely unprotected. She was looking directly into his inhuman eyes, her eyebrow arched without a twinge of discomfort.

She intrigued him. He waited for her to speak.

"Let's cut right to the chase." She started, her voice level and even. Her thoughts flew at her, as if out of a cage that had been locked in her mind up until now. She hadn't known when she had entered the trick wall that it would bring her face to face with Lord Voldemort. Nor did she understand why he hadn't just killed her already. She stifled these thoughts and spoke the very next that came to mind. "You've been trying to kill my friend for about eighteen years now and I don't want him to die. So I'm going to ask you, only once, to knock it off."

The dark lord sat in his throne-like chair, amazed at the upstart before him. "And who exactly are you?" He said, almost lazily.

"I think the question is who are _you? Who gave you the right to take life away?"_

"Who are you to ask such questions?" He thundered.

"The jury." She said with deadly cool.

He was amazed that she would be so calm. He had sent bigger, wiser wizard's knees knocking in fear. How come this one was so fearless?

"I've always been this way." She answered, as if she'd heard his thoughts. "I'd rather not be the judge or the executioner, but if you'd prefer…"

"What is my crime?" He asked intrigued.

"Which one? You have thousands of wizard's and witch's blood on your hands." She said, pointing her wand carefully at him and suggesting that he look at his hands.

He recoiled ever so slightly at the sight of gore and grimy blood covering them. "What magic is this?" He asked, more impressed than anything else.

"This is the power given to me by the Stag King. I can show you what you've done, like a mirror. I can make you feel the pain you've inflicted, like the conscience you obviously don't have."

"What do you want?"

"I want to know why. I want to understand how anyone could be so heinously evil. I want to know why you wanted me dead." Her teeth clenched as she finished, setting hard lines all about her face.

"Does there have to be a reason?" He answered dodgingly.

"Perhaps it's been so long you can't remember what started it all." She said with an icy dagger in her voice. "But surely you can remember back nine years. You sent your death eaters to kill a little girl. But she foiled your plan with fey magic. She's standing before you just now." She said raising her head high.

"Guenivere LeFey." He intoned darkly. "Ah yes, I do remember."

Part Five

Gwen staggered into the chamber where the two boys waited, wands poised at the still unconscious form of Lucius. She blinked, shook her head and asked: "Where's Draco?"

"That's all you have to say?" Harry asked, confused.

"You look like hell." Graves added, staring at her blatantly. Her robes were torn, her hair disheveled and she didn't look quite real. He noticed her right hand was clamped firmly over her chest, pressing in as if to keep some pain contained within her breast.

She huffed. "What did you do with him?"

"I saved his life is what I did." Graves replied, reaching down and removing the invisibility cloak from the fallen boy. "His father was going to kill him."

Gwen apologized with a simple glance and any anger Graves harbored was wiped away. She knelt once again, her hand still over her chest and did something Graves had never seen her done; she took her wand in her left hand. She concentrated deeply and performed the enervate spell.

Draco stirred weakly and looked up at her. "You." He said miserably.

She laughed, which caused her some sort of pain. Graves rushed to her side in a nervous state, closely followed by Harry.

"All three of you." Draco said, averting his eyes. "He didn't finish the job." He said of his father, whom he hadn't noticed lying on the ground some ten feet away from him.

"He wasn't allowed to." Graves said with extreme restraint.

Draco understood his meaning. He struggled to get up and noticed his father as he came to a wobbling stand. "Dead?" He asked.

"No." Harry said quickly with a rough nod.

Draco's lips hardened into a thin line. He looked down, trying to understand why these people who hated him were trying to help him. "I'm already too late." He said.

"For what?"

"I know where Dumbeldore is being held. But I'm willing to bet he's dead now that I've been delayed."

"You would've been delayed permanently had we not done anything." Graves said.

Malfoy glared at him sullenly.

Gwen touched Draco's arm gently. He looked at her from under his blond brows as if he couldn't believe her. She had always been kind to him, but this seemed too much. She had been kind enough to convince her boyfriends to protect him? He turned his gaze back to his feet and spoke softly. "The endless tunnel in the middle of the three tunnels at the end of the hall. That is where they last kept Dumbledore."

Gwen didn't bother with words, she took off at a run with Harry and Graves following. Draco took one more long look at his father before he too decided to follow them into the endless tunnel.

They ran until their sides ached and there was no more breath to spread amongst them. They ran until the lactic acid burned inside their muscles and their bodies were covered in sweat. They ran down the length of the endless hall and didn't stop until they had reached the end, no matter how their bodies protested against them.

This passage really did seem endless, but at last they discovered that it was not. There was another trick wall at the end of this hall. It led to a small chamber lit oddly blue by an unidentifiable light source.

In the center of this chamber was a crouching figure, dressed in a familiar robe, white hair creeping all about him in every direction. It was difficult to tell how long he had been kept here, but if the filth about him was any indication Graves would have guessed two to three weeks.

"We've got to get him out of here." Gwen said. No one argued; there was a sense of urgency that her tone of voice only confirmed.

All four of them made light work of lifting the man with their wands and carefully transporting him from the room.

"He'll be after us." Draco said under his breath.

"I don't think so." Gwen said, which raised everyone's eyebrows, but no one commented on the subject, now was not the time.

The group trudged on through the snow, Gwen guided them swiftly to the edge of the forest without any of them really realizing she was doing. She was going to get them as close to the school as possible before she left them to finish some business of her own.


	107. Princess

Episode One Hundred and Seven

At the edge of the forest Gwen disappeared from their midst. Before she left the woods she had one more visit to make. She felt confidant the boys could get Dumbledore to the castle from the point where she left them. Night was falling rapidly and they were at the castle before they even realized she had gone.

            She returned to the Faerie Mound once again and entered quietly. The silver table still laid in the main hall and Gemma was bent over it with her tools, picking up the work that had been so easily abandoned. She didn't look up at Gwen, but spoke softly.

            "You returned."

            "I want to know what you know even if you don't feel qualified to tell me."

            Gemma continued her work on the table, as if she hadn't just been interrupted, as if the girl before her, who was no blood relation to her was no more important than a fly, buzzing by. She didn't speak immediately and Gwen almost thought that she hadn't heard her. She was about to speak again when Gemma spoke.

            "Take a seat."

            Gwen pushed a little seat into the wall, her favorite mound trick and laid back against the cool surface. She waited patiently as Gemma collected her thoughts. She knew that she was not being ignored, even if it appeared to be so.

            The old fey took a deep breath and concentrated on the delicate inlay work. It would not take her long to mount the shiny red stone in its place on the silver, but it seemed to take forever on this day, with the presence she could no longer ignore completely sitting across from her.

            "I am old." She said, hardly realizing how heavy those words really were. "I cannot feel anything but sad for the loss of my family. Henry and George were the last of the LeFey line, as you now know, or are piecing together." She dropped her tools and laid her hands on the cold table top. There was no warmth in her pale hands, no warmth in the words she had to relay now that it was demanded of her.

            "Your father was unsellie. How he came about is rather a mystery to me and I care not to delve further into the matters of that court. But you must know that he was royalty, or at least partly so, which makes you royalty."

            "What kind of royalty are we talking about here?" Gwen said, humor creeping into her skeptical voice. "Duchess? Countess? Queen?"

            Gemma's tone quickly wiped the smile forming on Gwen's lips. "Princess." She replied. "Your father was a prince, born of another princess. When Mabb decides to throw off her crown Oberon will pick a new bride out of the pool of princesses." Here Gemma pierced Gwen with her gaze. "You are uncommon enough being half-fey and even then being unsellie. But you are entirely unique as an half-fey, unsellie princess."

            Gwen rubbed her forehead. "So my father was a prince?"

            "Yes. His mother was Leandre something."

            Gwen swallowed hard. Leandre, she knew a Leandre. Where did she know a Leandre? She could've screamed for her memory's blatant desire to lock up. She couldn't picture where she had seen the name before; it had been a piece of a scroll, written in a loopy handwriting similar to her own. Her breath caught in her chest. Jeremiah Leandre had written to her mother, thanking her for a business date or something like that.

            "Jeremiah." She said softly.

            "Yes, how did you know?"

            "My mother's papers. He'd written her a letter about something. I didn't think anything of it, but it seemed odd that she had kept it."

            "Yes well now you know all that I know."

            The parting was quiet this time, with more regret but less inclination to feel sorry about their separation. Both fey realized that this was a temporary thing that time would resolve and since Gwen was fairly certain her life would be a long one, she had plenty of time to wait.


	108. Draco the Coward and the Return of Mage

Episode One Hundred and Eight

Part One

            When Gwen finally returned to the castle she was beleaguered with questions and scolding from Harry, Graves, Minerva and surprisingly Draco. He remained at the castle, surprising all of them. He volunteered as a friend of the Order and was immediately put to work.

            Gwen was not so surprised that he stayed. She was very surprised that he cared enough to yell at her for wandering off.

As yet she hadn't told anyone what had transpired in the secret chamber and she certainly hadn't told anyone that it had to do with the Dark Lord. She wouldn't even allow herself to think on it. He had given her many things to think about and all of them led to unanswerable possibilities.

            Draco kept bugging her about it and she always managed to change the subject. One sunny afternoon they were cleaning up the mess on the front lawns of the school, knee deep in melting snow and almost frozen ground, making an icy mud that caked their robes.

            He had been pestering her about it on and off for they had picked to work on a small plot of ground together. They were filling in the giant holes that had been left by the battle, trying to bandage the wounds of the earth.

Finally she turned to him and asked "why," as Draco wiped his hands off on his muddy black robes.

He looked at her. "Why what?"

"Why do you care so much to know what's going on with me?"

"You showed me a lot of mercy in school. I guess I owe you the chance to become friends and I think you owe me the chance to care about you." He gave her a sidelong look as she wrapped her arms tight about her, hugging in what warmth she could muster. "You know you weren't too far off the mark about me."

"How's that?" She asked, shivering.

"I'm a big coward, the malice is all pretense. I'm just trying to be like daddy." He smirked and some of the softness that had made him seem so harmless moments ago was eaten away. "But we all have our reasons for doing what we do."

He shoveled another pile of dirt into the giant hole they were trying to fill and closed his mouth for the rest of the day. So far as he was concerned, the subject was closed for the time being.

Part Two

The next week was spent in a roundtable discussion about the return of Dumbledore and the disappearance of Voldemort.

Gwen still hadn't spoken to anyone about her encounter, but it was commonly assumed that he had simply vanished, something she knew to be true. Dumbledore was another matter. She had been to see him with Harry two days prior. The sight of him was something terrifying.

"He's gone bananas." Harry said, his voice faltering.

"It would appear so." Gwen said, shocked at the very idea. She would never equate senility with the great Dumbledore, but here he was stuttering and shuffling about like a doddering old man.

"Someone worked some pretty powerful magic on him." Madame Pomfrey quipped over their shoulders. "It'll be awhile before he's back to his usual self."

"But he will be back to his usual self?" Harry implored.

"Yes, within a month or maybe more, but he will be ok."

Harry hugged Madame Pomfrey and the wizened woman blushed unexpectedly. She bustled Harry and Gwen out of the infirmary, embarrassed at the exchange, but pleased that someone like Harry was still capable of such displays.

It was strange to see someone so strong, so stoic, transformed so completely.

She was thinking so as she stepped out of the meeting and walked slowly down towards the Great Hall. The school was still housing wizards and witches of the Order. It was Minerva's hope that students would return as early as the coming fall. It was an optimistic outlook considering the school was still housing criminals of war and the grounds were an absolute mess.

"What you did for Draco, that was really nice." Said a soothing voice behind her, breaking into her thoughts.

"Mage." She said softly without turning. She had only heard that voice once before, but that once was enough to ingrain it in her memory forever. When she did turn she was surprised to see the young woman wearing a splendid gown, as if for a fancy dinner engagement. She crinkled her brows in curiosity, admiring the fine beadwork along the hem and seams. It was pale violet, silky material which clung to the lithe figure.

There were several straps on each shoulder, leaning around her neck in smooth curves. The waist was empire, lined with more pale blue, purple and pink beads. The skirt was mid, length running down to the top of her calves. Her feet were laced up in matching violet shoes that had strings tying up her elegant legs.

Her hair was set in a simple bun at the back of her neck and she was wearing a single bangle bracelet on her left arm. She looked simply amazing and left Gwen speechless. She wasn't necessarily attracted to her, but she could easily appreciate the beauty of other women.

Mage smiled. "Thank you." She said, knowing the complimentary thoughts running through Gwen's head.

"You're welcome." Gwen said, only mildly disconcerted that Mage knew what she was thinking. Mage reached out to touch the thin band of silver on Gwen's hand but Gwen backed away, her hand over her chest.

"I won't hurt you." Mage said softly.

"I'm sorry. I'm just on edge."

"I know." Mage said. Gwen looked at her for a long time. Mage could see a question forming in her mind, but she couldn't see what. "Why don't you just ask?" She finally said.

"Why did you come to me? Dumbledore told me you speak to no one."

Mage looked at her, truly put off. Of all the things Gwen could have asked that was the last she expected. And being a true seer, that was really saying something. Gwen could sometimes hide her thoughts, though Mage didn't want to tell her this straight away. She assumed correctly it was something the fey could do.

"I came to you because you'd lost your direction."

"I don't think I ever had a direction." Gwen said keenly. "And honestly, it's not anything I miss."

"You like wandering around from day to day, having no idea what to do next?"

"Well, when you put it like that, no. But it doesn't hurt either."

"It does hurt. Someone with your potential shouldn't be wasting it away, confused and hurt. I thought that if I spoke with you you'd try and do something. I thought you'd try to find out the truth."

"I have tried to find out. But every clue leads to another dead end and another after that. I don't know anymore and I just don't care to." Gwen said, anger surging from a place she didn't recognize within herself. She hadn't even realized that she felt that way until she had spoken those words.

A deep gulf of silence swallowed them as they stood, unnoticed on the stairway. Gwen looked at Mage quietly trying to figure out how to present her next question.

"It's true." Mage said softly.

"What?" Gwen said. "Oh. Yeah. I forget you can read people's minds." She shook her head. "So, did you see mine?"

"No. I didn't."

"How's that? You see everyone's deaths. Why not mine?"

"I thought that would be obvious. It's because you can't die."

Had Gwen been drinking something she would've done a spit-take. As it was she was choking on something like disbelief. She knew that the fey part of her might have some properties close to immortality, but she couldn't believe that she couldn't die.


	109. Into the Black Box

Episode One Hundred and Nine

            Mage disappeared as soon as she arrived. It was much like her first meeting with Gwen, leaving her with more questions than answers and that burning feeling in her stomach, telling her that she was missing a very vital connection.

            Something was not adding up and her brain couldn't figure out any possible answers, or even the right questions to ask to get to the answers.

            She sat in her bedroom that night and a thought occurred to her. She hadn't yet looked inside the black box her mother had given her. It was still sitting in her mother's study on the desk. She wiped her forehead in frustration and as soon as she could apparated to the old house.

Her meeting with Lord Voldemort was something she didn't want to think on, but he had raised many questions and posed several very real answers that seemed just on the brink of possibility. But believing a dark wizard was foolish, especially not without a strong foundation to back it on.

She took a deep breath and concentrated on his words, the words she had to believe were untruths and dark lies. She believed now that Henry was not her father and that Jeremiah was, but she still had no real physical evidence of either. Having been told so by the Dark Lord made her want to stop believing.

The box lay open before her and she stared at it many long minutes.

Hidden within the box were numerous letters, doctors bills, test results. They all connected together like little bits of dirt compounding into a great boulder over time. She looked over each piece as if it alone held the secret, but no single piece could put it all together for her. Her mother must have been searching for years.

Her hand rested on her forehead and she closed her eyes to rest them. It was a good thing that she had waited to open the box because she would not have had the patience to deal with the decoding before now. But the Dark Lord had raised many questions and whether or not she chose to believe him was entirely up to her and the black box. If the box backed up his story…

She couldn't think, not truthfully in her heart that he could really be telling the truth. Not even if Gemma had backed up his story. Not even if Ann's uncertainty on the matter made her worry. She couldn't believe that the Dark Lord would ever be honest with her.

Yet there it was in plain black print on several rolls of parchment and plain white paper.

Henry LeFey was not her father. He had suspected so when he learned his brother was sterile, the very day he announced he was having a child, after ten years of trying. He noticed how Beorc worried, something she rarely did. He went to the clinic and was tested and learned that he shared his brother's fate. He was the last of the LeFey line.

The story however, did not just end here nor did it begin here.

There were papers confirming Henry's death a record number of three times (he had faked his death twice before it really happened, trying to escape the death eaters). He had written a love letter to her mother, stating his intention to become a death eater to earn the approval of her parents. There was a blood test, confirming once again that Gwen was not his child.

There was a tearfully written letter desperately begging for his wife's forgiveness. He had tried to kill his daughter when she was born, deadly angry about his wife's suspected infidelity. There was a picture of Gwen, tiny with a bare chest, the livid red scar in a jagged star shape sticking out noticeably. There was a picture of Henry in a long sleeve shirt, rolled up slightly. Something red was protruding from underneath the edge of the cuff, something that could be the bottom of a snake slithering out of a skull.

The picture of Henry LeFey had become brilliantly clear and any little shocks or bumps along the way had been smoothed out over ten years of happy memories. Yet Gwen couldn't believe that he had tried to kill her, she could only believe that he had been insane, snapping in a moment of agony and doing the first thing that came to mind. Stupid and foolish and deadly, but not evil. That had been Henry LeFey.

But the answer had provided very little to comfort Gwen and she had still not finished with the contents of the box. She hugged her arms to her chest and sat still for a long time just breathing.

Graves found her not much later, still motionless but for her breathing. He laid a soft hand to her shoulder and she shook her head lightly side to side. She laughed and her face broke into a half grin, half grimace. The pain was so close to the surface that it was threatening to spill over.

Her beloved took her into his arms and held her until all the tears were gone. He held her until the sun broke over the horizon. He held her until she was ok to let go.

That morning, Corwin Graves was finally allowed to have Guenivere LeFey. He spent every moment he could taking care of her, kissing her and cuddling her. They spent the entire day in each other's arms, reveling in the new day and trying to force the pain out of their lives.

When they returned to Hogwarts Gwen had the black box tucked under her arm.


	110. The Things He Said to Her

Episode One Hundred and Ten

Part One

            Dumbledore was well again, before anyone had hoped or expected. He had only been in his crazy stupor for nine days and his recovery was full and satisfactory to Madame Pomfrey. Hogwarts recovered much faster than anyone expected as well. Most of the holes were filled and everyone at the top level in the Order was working to scout out a new location for the prisoners in the Chamber.

            It might have been one of those moments where Gwen let her guard down, if she was prone to that type of behavior, but she was edgy still.

            She knew exactly where the Dark Lord was and while she couldn't explain it she felt just as connected to him as Harry had once described to her. She knew what had caused his disappearance and she knew right where he was hiding. She didn't think he was capable at this moment of trying to conquer the world again, but she didn't want to fall into that simplistic way of thinking. Her nose wrinkled in disgust thinking how spineless that creature really was when he didn't have a wand handy.

            But the things he had said to her…

            No. She couldn't think about it. Not yet. She needed more time to heal. She needed time to figure out why he would tell her the truth. She needed to find her real father.

Part Two

The problem with trying to find something is picking a place to start.

Gwen had no idea and as such she wandered around Diagon Alley aimlessly. She had given Harry and Graves the slip, sneaking off grounds and apparating as she so often did. She drank several butter beers and wandered in and out of the quaint shops.

The alley was essentially empty. Even though the Dark Lord had disappeared again people were not so easily swayed into believing that he could be gone. They had believed before that he would never be a problem again and they had been proven wrong. They wouldn't let their guard down so easily this time.

The shopkeepers were surprised to see the young lady with the gingery hair and the big brown eyes wandering through their shops, looking here and there for inspiration. She seemed out of place in the empty corridor of shops, something that didn't belong.

Finally she plopped into a cushy chair inside of a little cafe called the Serene Tea. She ordered an Earl Grey, no sugar, light cream, an acquired taste no doubt. She remained there, lost in her thoughts sipping idly with nothing to look at through the great round window looking out on Diagon Alley.

She hardly noticed when a man in a black cloak, his hood up entered, ordering a plain black and orange pekoe tea and taking a seat beside her. She was so lost in her thoughts that she barely even registered when he said: "you must be Guenivere. The fabled Queen who couldn't make up her mind."

"Yeah." She said distractedly.

"I've heard all about you."

"Where from?" She said, still looking out of the window with little interest in what the stranger had to say. It hardly seemed remarkable to her in that moment that he knew her name, even though she knew nothing of him.

"Doesn't matter." He said in reply to her question. "Just saying I wouldn't want to be in your shoes."

"Why's that?" She asked, barely caring about the answer.

"If the Dark Lord wants your Lancelot dead, he'll be dead sooner or later. I wouldn't want to be the one standing in between him and that fate."

"Haven't you heard? The Dark Lord has fallen and I doubt he'll rise again." Gwen said irritated with the conversation already.

"Shows what you know Princess." He said.

"And what do you know about it?" She said aggravated, taking in her companion for the first time. She recognized him, but she couldn't say from where. Princess sounded familiar too. Hadn't someone called her that not that long ago?

"I have friends in very strange places." He laughed, which set off a series of lung wracking coughs. "They keep me well informed." He choked as the coughing fit ended.

Gwen looked at him severally. "And who says he'll rise again?"

"No one you've met." Her companion said slyly, sliding away from her and sneaking out of the cafe door.

Part Three

            Gwen didn't think this was something that could wait. She rushed into Dumbledore's office and explained the conversation

"It didn't sound like anything I should be concerned with until he said that the dark lord would rise again."

Dumbledore observed her, his blue eyes cool. The twinkle that used to reside there was gone now and hadn't been seen for days. He spoke softly, trying to console her. Her hurt and her need to understand was obvious, as well as the urgency of her words. "He has fallen again. Let life return to normal Gwen. We don't need to be at defcon one again already." He attempted a joke.

"He won't die, will he Dumbledore?" She said suddenly. "You taught him very well."

"That sounded very much like an accusation Guenivere."

"It wasn't. It was a warning. I'm going to be prepared to take him down, whether or not the Order is with me." Her eyes filled with some of that flame that had been licking at her brain for close to two years now.

Dumbledore gazed at her as she fumed. She truly was terrifying and if Dumbledore had never been scared of another wizard before now it was simply because he never felt challenged. Gwen was the only one who could put Dumbledore back in his place. She stormed out of the room, leaving a trail of palpable anger behind her.

Harry rushed in, missing her grand exit by moments. "Where's Gwen?"

Dumbledore shrugged. "I imagine she would be trying to save us all."


	111. The First Disclosure

Episode One Hundred and Eleven

            With only her anger to keep her company Gwen stewed. She sat for hours in her mother's study clenching her teeth, clenching her fists. It felt like there was no one powerful enough to stop the forces of evil building up around her. She felt impotent and that weakness drove her nearly mad.

            She knew where he was. She had a wand. She had the desire to end his reign of terror. She had been given the opportunity before, but she didn't have the strength of mind to do so. The passing of that chance was something that was pushing her past her limits.

            The things he had said to her…

            She closed her eyes and slammed her fists on the desk. She threw the papers all over the floor. She ripped out pieces of hair but hardly felt the burning sensation of her torn scalp. She fell into a pile of papers and curled into a ball, her anger spent for the time being. But the physical act of destroying the study had not dulled her rage enough to stopper it up.

It wasn't much later when she decided to return to Hogwarts. She needed some more time to think and she needed Graves. She needed to curl up in his arms, not on the floor strewn with papers. She needed real human contact to calm her down, the kind that only Corwin could give her.

She snuck into her bed quietly and closed her eyes hoping she hadn't woken him, sleeping there so peacefully on her bed in her absence, the only place he felt truly comfortable anymore.

"Gwen?" Graves asked timidly. He hadn't heard her return, but he felt her body sink into the bed next to his. He rolled over to see her lying quietly on her side.  
            "I had the chance to kill him." She said softly.

"Kill who?" He asked concerned, leaning his arm over her body.

"You-Know-Who." She whispered. She turned to him as the terror of her meeting had finally sunk in. Her eyes were wide with shock, her complexion paler than he'd ever seen it.

"How?"

"I found him." She heaved a great sigh. "And I asked him why he wanted to kill me."

"What happened?" Graves asked his mind reeling.

"I couldn't kill him." She said angrily. "I wanted to so badly, but he's immune now." Her fists clenched at her sides, her teeth grating viciously, she stared at the wall of her bedroom.

"Gwen?" He asked, fear rising in his gut.

Her breathing sped up. "He hurt me and then I cursed him Corwin. I used fey magic, like that day with the death eaters. I don't think he'll come back, but I can't be certain. We'll never be certain until he's dead."

After a long moment Graves had to know. "Did he tell you why?"

She looked at him with the deepest regret she'd ever felt. "That is one secret that I will never reveal." She said. "The truth is sometimes the worst weapon any wizard could have against another and I prefer not to relive that moment ever again."

Graves wanted to argue with her. What if Voldemort had lied? But he saw the way Gwen's jaw was set. He saw the 'don't protest' look in her eyes. Anything he might have said to learn the truth died instantly before it reached his lips. He wrapped her in his arms and held her tightly. "I'll never ask again." He said quietly.


	112. The Subsequent Disclosures

Episode One Hundred and Twelve

Part One

            The next day Gwen was scarce again. Harry hadn't seen her and feared that she had run off and gotten herself killed. Graves paced about, not aware that his dearest friend was sitting in a dungeon classroom, vacated for the lack of students. Even Draco seemed concerned that she was nowhere to be found, but if they had simply wandered down into the bowels of Hogwarts they would have found her, sitting disconsolate across from Severus.

            She couldn't face Minerva, not just now. Her mood was something she couldn't handle and she didn't want to put pressure on the older woman's shoulders, not now when she needed her concentration to get the school back up and running.

            Graves knew, she felt certain, but she couldn't talk to him about that yet. Harry couldn't possibly understand. Dumbledore pissed her off too much. Snape seemed the only logical choice.

            He looked at her gently. "I think you should tell him."

            "I don't…" She huffed. "I don't even know how to begin the conversation."

            "Just start where you did today, with me."

            She laughed and shook her head, tears slipping down her cheeks. "It sounds so damn simple."

            "Guenivere, I am truly honored that you came to me. But there are three people who need to hear this, three people far more important than me."

            Gwen's chest rose unevenly as she struggled against her emotions to breath. She nodded slowly and sat for some time in silence with the teacher she had hated the most.

Part Two

When she appeared suddenly in the Great Hall, three young men looked up in surprise. Each one had been wringing their hands and pacing to and fro, too nervous to eat. That she could cause such anxiety was almost laughable to her, but she should have guessed that anyone can be made nervous in such times.

The hall was vacated but for the four of them and Gwen was surprised to see after all their years of rivalry that Draco and the other two were getting along so well. She took a seat at the table, sidling next to Harry and looking across at the two former Slytherins staring intently at her.

"We need to talk." She said hardly above a whisper.

"What about?" Draco asked. He was surprised that she would include him in on this conversation.

"When we were in the cave system in the Forbidden Forest and Harry, Graves and I separated I came upon a hidden cavern. When I entered I found myself face to face with Lord Voldemort."

The boys remained silent, the different stages of shock and surprise washing over them.

"I've never been afraid of Voldemort. It may sound like an exaggeration to you, but it's true."

Graves looked at her with a deep frown. Harry looked shocked. Draco found her statement a new source of admiration.

She rushed on. "I'm immune to it too, the Avada Kedavra curse. Something in my blood, something fey protects me."

"How do you know?"

"Voldemort tried to kill me, three weeks ago in the caves. It hurt like hell, but it didn't do any lasting damage, just revived an old scar." She said pulling down the neck of her shirt carefully to reveal a star shaped scar on the side of her breast.

"And you still don't fear him? He's an invincible monster now." Harry pressed.

"No. He can't kill me. We're connected somehow, I just can't piece it together. He needn't have bothered trying to kill me really. My father had already discovered my immunity."

"How?" Graves asked.

"He tried to kill me after I was born." All three men looked at her horrified to different degrees. She didn't notice and continued without stop. "I couldn't rightly remember, but Ann was trying to piece it together for me. Then I found out it's because he wasn't my father at all. The curse caused me great pain, which I can't remember, but it didn't kill me. It didn't leave any lasting mark other than a star shaped scar that had faded pale white by the time I could walk. I guess the second time the curse hit me the scar remembered itself and reappeared, right over my heart, angry red. My mother didn't tell me because she didn't know. My real father had performed an oblivate spell on her."

Harry just stared at her, not understanding. Graves breathed heavily.

"It sounded like rubbish at first, but the more I think about it the more it seems like truth. It makes sense. He wouldn't want anyone knowing he'd fathered a bastard and even more than that an heir."

"An heir to what exactly?" Graves said slowly.

"That is what I've yet to find." She bit her lip while crossing her arms over her chest.

Harry and Graves wanted to embrace her but they had known her long enough to recognize that she didn't want that. Draco remained still and quiet, trying to absorb her story. She sat deep in thought while they looked on in silence.

"You ok?" Harry asked in a tiny voice.

"I don't know." Gwen said. "My dad wasn't who I thought he was. He wasn't even my dad" She turned to Graves. "You knew." She stated calmly.

He nodded his head, fearing this would be another wedge driving them apart. 

"But you know more than that don't you Graves? You won't tell me because you think you're protecting me, but really you're just pissing me off."

"I'm not telling you because I took an oath not to tell anyone the secrets that I learned from the death eaters. I promised Dumbledore and I'm not going to break that promise."

She looked at him angrily. "Dumbledore is powerless to stop him and we will be as well if we can't even be honest with each other."

"I can't tell you." He said levelly. "You know I would if I hadn't promised. Gwen I love you more than anything."

She looked at him, weighing her options. He obviously wasn't going to back down. He wouldn't tell her and she had only two options. Accept that and move on, or stay angry.

"In that case I need to find the one person who can tell me the truth."

"Who?" Draco asked.

"Jeremiah." She said softly. After a moment of questioning silence she added darkly: "My father."


	113. Two Related by Blood

Episode One Hundred and Thirteen

With Gwen she tended to find things faster if she just stopped thinking and followed her feet. She felt a pull from a place she had not visited for months, a place that she had really only ever traversed in her dreams. She had spent time in the area when she was wandering the earth trying to find a purpose, but she had not gone to that exact spot.

It was called Rugar Woods and even the muggles could sense the magic the place gave off. To get there she had to apparate across the Atlantic Ocean and she wandered around the campus for awhile, listening to the oblivious conversation of students going to and from classes. The sun was setting in front of her and she knew that it would soon be time to enter the woods.

She walked slowly in the direction of the burning red sun, unnoticed but for her odd cloak, even though it was certainly cold enough here to wear one. Her breath rose in steamy puffs as she breathed softly into the frozen air and took in the iced over academic buildings that gave way to dorms, that gave way to a long parking lot and at last she was standing before a thinning circle of trees.

She looked before she stepped inside and noticed right away that any muggle walking by this place after having parked their car would never be able to see what she was seeing now. It was like walking into a faerie grotto, the air was abuzz with electricity and the power was surging down to her very toes. They could feel it, yes, but they couldn't see it like this.

She noticed a tall dark figure standing in the middle of all this activity. "Jeremiah." She said with a small shrug. She shook her head and gave a tiny laugh. "I never in a million years imagined that my mother's lies would lead to this."

She stepped over the threshold of ley lines, holding the magic curtain that hid this fabulous view from the non-magicals. She felt it close again behind her and approached the figure she knew to be her father at a slow pace. She wasn't in any mood to rush this.

"You found me." He said, taking in his grown daughter.

"Once I shut up and listened, it wasn't hard at all. You were here all along, watching in the shadows. Mom based my dream world on this place and you were never far away, lurking and leering."

He lowered his hood to get a better look at her, but what he really did was give her an opportunity to look at him.

His hair was gingery, like her own, like Henry LeFey's hair had been. He had enigmatic eyes that could be gray, could be green, she couldn't tell from where she was standing. He definitely stood with her stance, his back straight and tall, but she had not inherited his height. Instead she had inherited his facial gestures, his frowns and smiles, the exact angle of his raised eyebrow.

There was no doubt by simply looking that these two were related by blood. They had a very fey quality about them, dark and haunting. They left you wanting to know more, but realizing that you could never pin them down long enough to do so.

"I would never leer at my flesh and blood." He said, stepping dangerously close to her.

She pulled out her wand. "Don't fall into the belief that this is a friendly meeting." She said pointing the wand at his chest.

He raised his arms in surrender. "It seems Henry and Beorc taught you well."

Gwen shook her head at him. "I need to know a few things from you."

"Like what?" He said amicably.

She continued her cold stare despite all of his efforts. "Who the hell am I?"

"You are Guenivere." He said. "Fabled princess and queen."

"The man at the cafe said something similar."

"Yes, an old friend. I sent him to warn you. It worked because now you're here and itching to know why you alone can destroy the Dark Lord."

"Me?" She said, feeling that somehow he was right, but not wanting to believe.

"Well, you and perhaps your good friend Potter. But I don't care who does it, as long as someone gets the job done."

"That's not all I want to know." She said, not wanting to delve into the Voldemort subject just yet. "What happened to my mother?"

"Your mother?"

"Yes, they never did establish a cause of death but I'm willing to bet…" She trailed off, her eyes grew cloudy and she felt a vision rising to her. She saw Jeremiah, his wand extended and her mother facing him bravely.

"The death eaters didn't kill my mother." She said deadly into the arctic night. "You did. She was getting close enough to the truth to make you nervous. She had put together the black box and she hid it. She knew you'd be coming for her."

"Did you figure that all out on your own?"

She brushed off his comment, as was her habit when she had something to get clear and bit her lip. "What I don't understand is why you don't want anyone to know I'm your daughter."

He sneered, something like an evil smile. "Come on Gwen, put the pieces together, they're all there. You're powerful enough to bring down the dark lord. You were created very intentionally. I spent years looking for the right couple, a father with his own secrets so that you'd never suspect it was really me and a mother with power and great evil on her family tree. Your parents were the perfect fit."

Gwen stared at him un-amused. "So you made me with a purpose."

"A dark purpose Gwen. You've felt it before. I could tell you'd finally figured something out. The flames were licking at the base of your spine, the terrible fury of the unsellie."

"Quaint poetry father, but I want to know why."

"You are going to take out my only competition for world domination."

Gwen scoffed. "You think I'm going to bring down Voldemort so that the order of Leandre can take over?"

"Not just Leandre. This if for all the unsellie. The fey have been strongly misrepresented and this will strike a blow to all those fluffy bunny believers who think we all have wings and grant wishes. The unsellie will rule."

"Not if I have anything to do with it."

"Yes, I understand that very well now. Leaving you in the care of Beorc and Henry wasn't exactly my best plan. Henry wasn't really a death eater, not in spirit anyway. He was a dreamer, an idealist. It rubbed off, didn't it."

"I'm glad to say that it did." Gwen replied indignant. "He was my real father, regardless of biology. He stayed after all his mistakes, he made it up to me."

"He tried to kill you."

"You were there." Gwen yelled. The sudden revelation gave way to the fire in her belly. She looked at him with deadly fury. Her jaw was set in a hard line. "You used the Imperius curse. You made him do it."

"You are getting good." He said, his admiration obvious. "My only mistake was not using the obliviate spell on you as well. Though I supposed you would be too young to remember."

"You know better than anyone that the fey have long memories."

"Indeed I do. A miscalculation on my part."

"So where does that leave us?"

"With my intense curiosity. You have faced the Dark Lord before. He returned to hiding that very day. Whatever transpired between you?"

"He led me to you."

"Ah indeed. But you didn't finish him off like I had hoped you would."

"I tried to."

"And it wasn't enough?"

"Maybe I didn't really want to kill him."

"Maybe not." He replied. There was no surprised in his voice, something Gwen took immediately to be a clue. He had been expecting her to say as much and that meant he knew something more than she did.

"Maybe I wanted to see you first. He's sown so many lies, but I thought, why lie to me?"

"And he didn't lie did he?"

"No." She said with an icy chill.

"Does that seem odd to you?"

"Very."

"Doesn't quite add up does it?"

"No. It doesn't. I suppose you'll tell me why."

Jeremiah looked at his daughter with wicked amusement. "You're supposed to be the smart one. Figure it out."

She took a deep breath. "I'm tiring quickly of your games." She said heavily. "Either tell me or leave."

"You are connected to the Dark Lord but you can't figure out how. You really want to know?"

Her fist clenched around her wand and tiny sparks spurted out of the top.

"I guess you do." He said. 


	114. Enough To Take Him Down

Episode One Hundred and Fourteen

Part One

Gwen left Rugar woods quickly, afraid she might just kill her biological father with a single stroke of her wand. She apparated quickly to Hogwarts finding that the weather had changed from snowy to rainy in the short time that she'd been gone. It was raining steadily pouring in fact and there was no way she could make it to the castle without getting soaked.

As she came to the doors, dripping from her cloak, her hair plastered to the sides of her face she was surprised to see that Graves was standing under the stoop covering that housed the stairs up to the great doors. He looked up at her apprehensively, but he knew that he needn't push. She would tell him what it was that she needed to say. She only required patience and a little time.

Her words came out strained, her face soaked with rain and tears. "I just hoped that one day I would wake up and be afraid of him. I just kept denying it because I wanted to wake up and be normal. But I can never be normal."

"What are you trying to say?" He prompted softly.

She closed her eyes. "Some people wish for extraordinary things to happen to them. But when it happens they wish it hadn't. Tragedy is an extraordinary thing and they don't often realize that when they make their wishes. One morning you wake up knowing you can make magic, but you regret it the next when you realize that it must be kept secret from the muggles. You find that great responsibility isn't worth the ability to fly."

Graves understood that feeling. He had felt it long ago when he found he could make things happen when he was feeling some great extreme of emotion. Yet he had found over the years that you get used to such things, they become commonplace like lost keys or arguments between siblings. You begin to see magic as a mundane thing.

And then Gwen had walked into his life and threw mundane out of the window. He hadn't had a moment of peace in his soul if she was near, but he wanted that restless tug. He wanted the feeling like the pull of the tide responding to the moon's sweet face. He wanted the ache that filled his limbs when she held him.

She had become his best friend before he even knew her. When they met she had become so much more. He looked at her now, not bothering to hide his intense longing to sweep her up in his arms and take away all her troubles.

She took a deep breath, her shoulders shuddering enough for Graves to worry that perhaps they should move inside. He slid an arm around her, intending to guide her indoors but she simply shirked his arm off her back. He stopped and remained perfectly still. It was so cold and she was so wet, but something was keeping her from joining the others.

She reached out a hand in apology, but found that they were shaking violently. She pulled them back immediately and began to pull on her fingers, trying to contain the shivers of nerves built up over nineteen and a half years.

"I found my father." She finally said as lightning arched across the sky.

Part Two

            "I think I'm going crazy Corwin." She said softly into her pillows.

            Graves, lying next to her heard her and wrapped his arm around her. She felt his touch, attempting to be gentle and sweet but she could not feel anything but angry. The rage she had taken out in her mother's study, the meeting with her father, everything was building until she felt so small, lost in the tidal wave that was close enough to shore to crash.

            They hadn't spoken about her statement out in the cold rain. Graves simply ushered her inside, helped her off with her soaked robes and wrapped her in some warm blankets. He cuddled her by the fire until she looked ready to sleep and he lifted her into his arms and carried her to bed. She lay there for the longest time without moving or speaking until it just needed to come out.

            She could no longer run from the truth and it was her own damn fault for wanting to find it so badly. She knew now, knew just about everything there was to know about her lineage and she liked it very little. She opened her mouth to speak, closed it again finding no sound would come out and pulled her pillow over her face. She screamed into the goose down, and for some odd reason this release helped.

            Graves pulled her arms off the pillow and slid the pillow away from her face. He looked at her with a cocked eyebrow and said "are you going to tell me what's going on?"

"Yeah." She sighed. "Just give me a minute. God this is so fucked up. Today's just been too much."

Graves gave her an impatient huff. "How is that different from any other day in our lives?"

She shrugged and said "well, since you put it that way." She sat up straighter and took her time to arrange the pillows and blankets into a comfortable position. She was dragging her heels even now and a voice in the back of her head finally yelled: ENOUGH. She sighed and started very softly. "Jeremiah doesn't go by his father's name. It was his mother's name, Leandre. His father was… is… Oh I'm so angry…" She said, clenching her fists and trailing away from the truth already.

            "What are you trying to say?"

            "All the crap he's done to Harry. It explains everything. It explains why I'm afraid of Harry and not him. I've never been afraid of _him. He tried to kill me and I almost laughed. I thought it was funny. And now I think I'm going crazy, because I still think it's terribly comical."_

            "What's terribly comical?" Graves asked as patiently as he could manage. Nothing she had said so far made any sort of sense and he wasn't going to bother piecing it together until she finished telling him everything.

            "None of this crap matters." She said, throwing a pillow at the wall. "Not my father, or who I thought was my father. Not this." She said, pointing to her chest where her scar still gleamed red. "Not even all the evil things he's done. None of it matters because I have the power to stop it now. The most terrifying part is that I don't want to. I should want to kill him, to end it but it's just not in me. I think I might be one of three people on this earth who could easily dispatch of him and I don't want to do it."

            "You're talking about the Dark Lord." Graves said.

            "Well yeah. You know. Or you did know. Unless they totally screwed you up with that memory charm. My father took his mother's name, Leandre. But his real name was Jeremiah Thomas Riddle. The Dark Lord is my grandfather Graves."

            Graves inhaled sharply. He had known for some time, but hearing it from her mouth had hit it home. "You believe it then?"

            "There's nothing to believe, it's the truth plain and simple. I've known, here, inside all the time. I just couldn't put it together because the whole thing was too terrible. I couldn't talk about it until now, I couldn't piece it all together and be ok with it."

"You're going to take it upon yourself to end this aren't you?"

            She looked at him, sitting there amongst the scarlet bedding and pristine white sheets. "I would imagine that it's my responsibility as the last member of his line. I have to clear my name."

Part Three

Gwen played with her pasta at lunch the following day. She had been thinking heavily on the things her father told her and the things that the Dark Lord had said. She had been thinking of a strategy, a plan of action.

Draco had noticed and in a moment of misjudgment said something snidely to the point. "What, did Lord Voldemort give you something to think about?" He teased.

She stood up and walked past him without uttering an answer. She was so angry she wouldn't speak to him. She was certain the words would come out wrong and Draco would end up crumpled on the floor in a tiny ball.

Graves looked to where Gwen turned the corner out of the Great Hall and looked back at Draco. "Don't." He said. "I think you may have hit a little closer to home than you'd think. I think the Dark Lord did give her something to think about, but she won't discuss. She'll never tell anyone." He said, looking faraway into the future, hoping there would be a day when no secrets existed between them.

"I didn't mean to." Draco said, sighing.

"I'll speak to her." He offered, rising from his bench and finding Gwen gazing at herself in the mirror she had mounted on the dresser in her room. She had pulled up the chair from her desk and was straddling it, leaning her arms on the back of the chair and staring at her reflection.

"I used to have this dream." She said to Graves. "I would just look at myself in the mirror for ages. I haven't had that dream since I learned my fey name."

Graves waited, his arms crossing his chest.

She turned to face him. "Why does he do that?" She asked of Draco.

"I think he just reverts back to his old self because he doesn't feel worthy enough to be good. He can't even believe that you can see the good in him, so he tries to cover it up by being bad old Draco Malfoy, instead of the nice guy that you see when you look at him."

"He's such a bastard."

"Please forgive him. I know that's a hard thing to ask, but you forgave him before he'd ever done anything really terrible. If anyone could, you should be able to forgive him now."

She pursed her lips. She could forgive Draco. He had proved a strong ally for the Order and she wouldn't like to alienate him now. Not now that he was actually starting to trust her and become her friend. She nodded, rose and forgave her friend. He hoped, as well as she that it would be the last time she would have to forgive him.

Part Four

Gwen gazed over at Graves in the early morning light. The way the sun's rays curled around the curve of his body. How his hair, still prickly short was nestled into the pillows. There was a soft smile turning up the edges of his mouth and she knew he was dreaming about her.

            But she knew she couldn't be free and happy if _he_ was still alive.

            She knew very well that Harry Potter felt the same way.

            The main difference between them was that Harry Potter wasn't completely capable of carrying through with it and Gwen knew that she could.

            Whether or not she wanted to believe it completely, she knew that she had a power surging inside of her. This was part of her fey self, the part of the dark and sometimes very evil unsellie royal court teeming in her blood. She could raise a wand to his chest, speak her spell and kill him on the spot. But she didn't want to admit that to herself yet. She didn't want to realize her potential as the cold-blooded killer of her own grandfather. She didn't want to realize that he was her own grandfather and so she kept these thoughts bottled up and clearly labeled in a dusty corner of her mind.

            Yet, at the same time she was formulating her plan to come once again face to face with him. She knew now where he was at this very moment and she knew how to get there, but she needed to think this through. The reckless and impatient Gwen of the past had learned her lesson in this instance and she wasn't going to run in with gun's smoking, cat-calling and making a general poor show of things. She was going to have a game plan at the very least and as of right now she was considering whether or not she needed help.

            She figured she could take him single-handedly, but she felt that was some of the arrogance she had inherited from her mother. She also realized that asking someone along was knowingly putting them in a great deal of danger, perhaps more than she was prepared to accept the blame for along with the guilt. She frowned as Graves stirred quietly in his sleep.

            She wasn't going to do this to him. She wasn't going to endanger his life again. She crawled out of bed, went through her morning toiletries and dressed quickly. She grabbed her outdoor cloak and secured her wand into the front pocket of her dark blue jeans. She cast one long look over Graves sleeping form and rushed over to give him one last impulsive kiss.

            She walked away from Hogwarts that morning absurdly confidant and thoroughly jaded.


	115. The Royal We

Episode One Hundred and Fifteen

            She was much surprised to find that she was not alone, walking down the lawns on this crisp morning. A lone figure appeared wandering around the front path, strolling idly but fully arrayed for traveling in a heavy cloak, a wand visibly tucked into the band of his pants.

            She gave him a withering look and he only returned a smile with an upraised eyebrow.

            "You didn't think you'd get out of the castle without my knowing about it?"

            "Hope sometimes wins out over logic." She said simply.

            "So where are we going today?"

            "We as in you and me? Or we as in the royal we, as in myself?"

            "Oh, we as in you and me most definitely."

            "I see." She said abruptly. "You do understand the dire situation I'm about to throw myself fool-heartedly into?"

            "And you understand that I've as much right as you to be there when you do it?"

            She sighed. He had a really good point. "All right, but if you get killed dead don't you dare come back and haunt me."

            "I'll pinky swear on that." He said, extending his pinky for her to clasp in her own. She did, they spit over their right shoulders and locked eyes. "Let's go then, shall we?"

            Gwen smiled at Harry and nodded quickly. "Let's."


	116. Through the Door

Episode One Hundred and Sixteen

Part One

            Their travel was made quick by apparating, but Gwen made certain that they didn't go directly to the source. They needed to be at least a certain ways away so that they could prepare themselves mentally for what was to come. Gwen made sure to explain some very important things to Harry.

            "Listen, you're going to hear a lot of things that don't necessarily make sense and honestly I don't have the time to explain them to you now, but you just have to believe that no matter what we end this today."

            He nodded, glancing apprehensively around their non-descript surroundings. The walls were gray here and there was rubbish in the corner. It smelled just a little bit like the inside of something brand new and plastic, like a giant trash bin that's never been used. The room was empty and he had to wonder where in the world he could possibly be.

            Gwen didn't seem too concerned. She had her hand on the rusting black door knob of a gray door, paint chips falling where her fingers brushed it. She just wanted this whole business finished.

            She steeled herself against what lay ahead of them and opened the door before her. Harry was close behind, his hand trailing the door as it closed behind them with a definitive click.

Part Two

            They ventured quietly into the room. It was dark and solemn, light by a strange nondescript hue in the center. The light source was unidentifiable. It caught on the top edge of a throne like chair and Harry could hear Gwen mutter: doesn't travel far without his throne, does he?

            He nearly laughed to hear her talking so, but he feared it would give them away to whatever was facing the back wall. They hadn't been seen or sensed so far and he didn't want to be the one to ruin it.

            It didn't matter. A high cold voice curled out of the void, from the other side of the chair. "Wormtail, could you please greet our guests and bring them here."

            Harry and Gwen could see a short, lumbering figure cross through the light patch and come to rest in front of them. "You'll want to come without a fight." He said in a nervous undertone, extending his hand to collect their wands.

            "That will be quite all right Wormtail." The cold voice spoke again. "You may leave them as they are."

             Peter Pettigrew had not doubted his master's judgment to his face before and this would not be the first time he would do so. He kept his peace while Harry and Gwen followed him to the other side of the chair.

            Sitting there, almost bored, the Dark Lord was cloaked, the edges of the hood hiding his hideously snake-like visage. Gwen was relieved she wouldn't have to look at him. Harry remained quiet at her side, waiting for the snake to speak.

            He took his time, waiting calmly and coolly for there were no two people in the world he wanted to torture more than these two. Here was the Boy Who Lived and by his side, the girl who had brought him this prize.

            "Well done my dear." He said finally, directing his gaze towards Gwen. She felt the cold wash over her.

            "What is well done?" She snapped, breaking the thin surface of ice that had settled over her. The chill was replaced by a furnace of anger and heat was radiating from her in waves.

            "You have brought me Harry Potter. I could not have asked for better."

"I didn't."

"You did. He followed you here. So you brought him to me. I am very proud."

"It can't be true."

"But it is my dear." He said, using the familiarity again that froze her blood "And what will you do?"

"I'm going to end this."

"You'd kill your grandfather?" He said, dropping all pretense.

The breath had been stolen from her lungs and a lifetime of memories hurled themselves into her chest, burning her scar. She feel to her knees, curled into a ball and closed her eyes to the burning sensation filling her limbs.

"You didn't have any children." She said, struggling to speak, trying for the last time in her life to deny the truth.

"It's fairly easy to father a bastard in this day and age Guenivere. I would've thought you'd have known that much."

His words sliced through the fragile protection she had built around herself. "I don't care that I'm a bastard." She spat back, using the last of her strength to glare at him.

"No, you wouldn't." He said coldly. "But now is the time to acknowledge that you are indeed my granddaughter and that my bastard son Jeremiah helped to bring you into this world."

"So you let everyone believe you were the last?" Harry's voice rang through the great room with strength he was unaware he possessed.

"Ah, Mr. Potter has come to join the conversation." Voldemort sent him a particularly scathing look, but Harry had long since mastered the art of Occlumency and he blocked his mind from any possible emotional intrusion. "Very good Mr. Potter. I see Mr. Snape's lessons have not come in vain. I should perhaps, have killed that one when I had the chance to. There's always tomorrow."

"There is no tomorrow for you." Gwen interrupted from the floor. She was clutching her chest again, as trying to keep her heart from flying out of it.

There was a deadly stalemate of stares passed all around the room when a loud crashing noise resounded from the door.

Part Three

It seemed like a great parade of cloaks and robes were crashing through the door. Perhaps the death eaters had been alerted to the presence of Harry Potter and had come to help their lord and protector, those that were left and not insane in any case.

Had Gwen looked she might have realized that none of these witches and wizards had hoods. None of them bore the dark mark, but two among them and both of them had long since given up any allegiance to the foul blemish. Had Gwen stopped for half a moment she would have recognized these people as the ones who had been living in and fighting for the castle that she called home.

But all of these things were blurry in her mind and she couldn't sense that they were coming to her aid. She began to speak quickly and quietly: _g'nath heflubesqad bicow_. Harry recognized these words, she was closing them in together, sealing them apart from all those robed figures storming in to join them. If he had never thought her crazy before he now wondered why.

Her misguided attempt to protect them had now put them in greater danger than before.

When the Dark Lord began to laugh his high, cold laugh she stopped immediately. She could see through the barrier she had created, she could now recognize Graves stunned face, Dumbeldore's piercing blue eyes, Minerva's surprise and even Snape as he stood looking fierce and deadly. She could see them now, trapped outside of her circle of protection.

She glared at him and apologized out of the side of her mouth to Harry.

"Can you reverse it?" Harry said.

"It's not that kind of spell Harry." She said, thinking angry thoughts about herself. Rushing ahead again, without thought on consequence.

"Well dear, it seems you really wanted me all to yourself." Voldemort said. He laughed again and stood from his throne-like chair. He stepped over to her and stroked her the side of her face with a long yellowing finger.

She flinched away and continued her glaring. "This doesn't change a thing. I'm still ending this today."

"I've no doubt you will Guenivere." He replied. "But I'd like to make this quick." He added. He pointed his wand casually at her and she found herself on her knees again, her scar burning and Harry was writhing on the ground next to her. She felt a rush of concerned voices from outside the bubble she had built and she regretted it more dearly than any rushed decision so far.

No, she thought, that wasn't true. She couldn't regret anything. There wasn't room for regret if she wanted to live. She gave an agonizing grunt as her stomach turned. "Stop." She said and concentrating very carefully she felt the pain fade into nothingness and looked up at Voldemort with clear eyes.

"You killed my father." She said, standing slowly, careful not show her amazement that she could do that much.

"I'm very impressed Guenivere, but not in the least pleased. Your father is still alive."

"No, my real father, the one who cared for me. The one who loved me. You killed him, even if it was indirectly; it was a result of your hatred for him."

"He was a fool who deserted me. Just like your beloved Corwin. He will share your _father's fate. He will die and it will be at the hand of myself or one of my death eaters."_

"Not if I have anything to do with it." She said. Harry was still in agony on the floor and she flickered for a moment to offer him sympathy. Voldemort used this moment to shoot another wave of pain at her and she brushed it off quickly.

"You may have caught me the first time." She said. "But you will not catch me again. I'm stronger than you and you know it."

There was a momentary flicker between them, an understanding that their bond of blood allowed. He raised what was left of his eyebrow and looked down from his nearly lidless eyes. "So what is it that you want?"

"I want to sort his whole sordid mess out before I kill you."

"Certainly." He said with a nod. He sat down upon his throne again and threw another wave of pain upon her.

"It's not weakening me any more." She said pointedly. "Don't waste your energy when you'll need it later."

The evil one wanted to laugh at the very nerve of his granddaughter, but he realized that at least a part of himself was present in her blood and perhaps this part was what was giving her the strength and the gall to say the things she did now.

"I realize now that you allowed your son to live perhaps because you hadn't realized he was your son until now. And then you didn't allow anyone to know it was so, you even managed to silence Leandre, his mother. Pretty crafty."

She paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts. "Why you let him procreate is beyond me, but here I am. Daughter of Beorc and Jeremiah, certainly not a product of my environment. Jeremiah tried to get Henry to kill me, for reasons he wouldn't expound upon. Perhaps he realized the power I had then, maybe not, but it backfired. I'm immune to the wizard's curse of death, that was a gift my grandmother Leandre. You wanted to confirm that it was true later in my life, when you sent your death eaters to find me. But they couldn't and that wasn't something you had counted on."

"How ever did you hide from me?" He interrupted.

"I wasn't aware of it at the time, but I'd been casting a very simple fey glamour on myself. Anytime a death eater looked at me I just looked like some other kid, plain and easily ignorable. I'd been doing it since before I could walk. Anyone bearing the dark mark wouldn't be able to find me unless I wanted them to."

She smiled with a tinge of pride. "And Harry here. You marked him for death when you learned of the prophecy."

Harry looked at her amazed. He hadn't spoken a word about it to anyone, nor he knew did Dumbledore. How did she know of it? She turned and smiled at him, as if she'd heard his thoughts. "I snuck back into the dream world not long ago. Mom's magic is still working and I found the rest of the JK Rowling series waiting for me in my old dorm room. I read book five and most of book six before I realized I should probably come back, I'd been there for days. I left them there and didn't finish the series. I thought we could do that Harry, finish the story together."

She looked at him calmly. "There is of course, one other person who should be here with us."

"Dumbledore." Harry said softly.

"Actually no." Gwen said. "Neville Longbottom." Harry looked at her as if she'd just uttered a highly laughable joke. She continued, non-plussed. "You see granddad, you missed a very important part of the prophecy. There were two babies born at the end of July whose parents had escaped you three times. You marked Harry as your equal and he should be the one to finish it, but I think Neville has just as much right to be here."

            A slightly pudgy figure appeared on the periphery of the bubble she had created and when he pushed his hands against the bubble he found himself being sucked in. Gwen realized she could control the bubble if she needed and she allowed Neville to pass through. If she wanted she could let everyone in, but for now Neville would buy her some time.

            He looked between the three figures inside in surprise. He didn't understand what was transpiring within and couldn't hear what had been said within the bubble. He looked to Harry for answers because Harry was the one he was most familiar with. Harry simply shrugged and nodded towards Gwen, who smiled vaguely.

            "So you see, Neville should be here too. He was a part of the prophecy, one of the two children who could bring you down. And of course, then there's me…"

            Neville sidled over to where Harry was standing and shifted back and forth on his feet uncomfortably. He felt terribly out of place, but he had the same savage bravery surging in his veins as he had during that night in the ministry when he braved death eaters and smashed up the prophecy he was a part of.

            Gwen looked between the two boys. "Maybe I won't kill you." She said softly. "Maybe I'll just incapacitate you enough that these two can finish you off."


	117. Snakeskin Shell

Episode One Hundred and Seventeen

"Obviously you are my grandfather, something I had before now had the opportunity to ignore." Gwen continued, staring down the Dark Lord. "But I am of your flesh and blood and I am resigned to that. This sort of explains why Harry Potter, and not you terrified me. Dumbledore shouldn't be the wizard you fear. It should be Harry and I think part of you realized that and by some connective power of our shared blood I felt it."

What was left of Voldemort's lips curled into a smile. "I see she has grown smarter."

Neville shivered slightly at the sound of that cold voice. Harry stood rigidly in place. Gwen laughed. "Yes well, your power is in some strange way connected to mine. But I will not be your puppet. Not like him." She said pointing her wand in the direction of Jeremiah, who had joined the Order members standing in a throng outside of the bubble. She didn't note his exact entrance, but she had become aware of his presence earlier and decided now would be the time to point it out.

Voledmort simply shrugged. His son was of little or no consequence now. His granddaughter was his main concern. She was wearing her welcome thin. "Is there a point to this?"

"I might ask you the same thing."

"Power, my girl. Power is all there is."

"I'd like to think differently." She said. "I'd like to think there are still such things as love and art, knowledge. Things that are better to pursue than world domination."

"Then you are far less my granddaughter than I was beginning to believe."

"I could have told you that." Harry spat. "She's ten times your better."

Voldemort threw a surge of pain to him from the tip of his wand and Harry fell in agony once again. Neville rushed to his side and found himself captured in the Cruciatus curse as well. Gwen waved her wand and took the pain away, staring down her grandfather and not bothering to glance at the people she had just saved from pain's grip. She couldn't bear to look at them just yet.

Voldemort smiled savagely. "It matters little how you try to save them. They will die."

"Yes." She agreed quietly. "Someday. This is not that day."

Voldemort's smile was wiped from his snakish face and he pointed his wand instead at his granddaughter's chest. Her scar burned furiously, but the pain hardly bothered her because she was becoming strongly aware of another feeling. Her wand arm was levitating against her will and her wand was pointing at Harry. She was aiming at his heart and her mouth was working, though no words would come out.

Gwen struggled to fight him off. "I will not let you use me." Her wand swayed and pointed this time towards Neville. The struggle was intense and the wand shook in her clenched fist. Her arm continued to sway back and forth. She growled. "I am stronger than that and I am stronger than you." She threw her head back, her shoulders erect. Her wand had snapped away from the two young men and was now pointed directly at the Dark Lord. She looked him finally in the eye. What power he had over her was gone now and Gwen was truly at her most terrifying.

Her usually light brown eyes were blazing red around the pupil, the orange that normally existed there had swollen making her eyes appear to be dancing with flames, her entire face was a mask of strength and power unchecked. She said three words repetitiously while standing upright and facing the most evil thing alive: rehohur honugic rehohur dinthoqaf.

Voldemort began to wither and the last of his strength and power had been sapped away. Harry recognized the words in Ouranian and was truly surprised that Gwen would use them for this purpose. But instead of stopping her, he joined her, adding his voice to her chant.

Neville bowed his head solemnly and joined them, his voice quaking from time to time, but repeating the words in an unbroken chain. They pointed their wands at his chest and chanted spellbound as he withered into an empty snakeskin shell.


	118. Final Rest

Episode One Hundred and Eighteen

            A lone figure stood on the sunny hillside, pocked here and there with withering gray headstones. She was wearing dark, subdued robes and thick black boots, which the recent rain had left muddy. Her ginger hair was pulled back into a short ponytail that bobbed to and fro as she moved with a subtle deft ability.

            Somewhere under her robes, resting on her left hip, was a wand, the power of which she had broken. It contained a single phoenix tail feather and had once belonged to someone capable of great evil. On her right hip was another wand; this one contained the hair of a unicorn, not something she would have chosen herself. Her curiosity over why the wand had chosen her was something that had faded with the few years that she had owned it, her original wand having been crushed under the trample of death eaters' feet. That wand too had contained unicorn hair, something she had debated about for years.

            She knew very well that when she returned to Hogwarts she would again be subject to many inquisitions as to her whereabouts and her motivations. She had suffered for many long weeks under the scrutinizing eyes of the Ministry of Magic.

            She was carrying his wand, the wand of the Dark Lord. She had taken it from his snakeskin shell and she had insisted on burying what was left of his body. He may have been the root of all evil, but he was still family and that had to count for something. She was paying her respects now, bowing her head in recognition of their blood ties.

            She had tried to answer all of their questions. Harry had asked so many, about being the Heir of Slytherin (which she was, though she was not a parselmouth), the fear she still felt for him (out of some residual part of herself tied to her grandfather), and anything else he could think to utter about Gwen's life and how it had culminated in the death of her grandfather.

            Neville had few questions. He seemed, surprisingly to understand Gwen and her actions on that day in the dark room. The day he finally fell. Draco asked no questions, he had enough to worry about from his own father without concentrating on the worries of others. Graves waited for her to tell him on her own terms.

            These were the four men who now occupied most her time. The others, her godmother, Snape, even Dumbledore, they left her alone. She had answered their questions on the first day back and she had nothing more to say about it to them or the Ministry or any of the papers. The question and answer session was over, but it didn't stop them from continuing to chase her into corners, their quills ready to write any little thing she happened to slip.

            She sighed and leaned down to the earth. She placed a handful of fresh daisies that she had picked from the roadside onto the fresh dirt that still had not grown grass. She knew that this spot would never grow grass; it would be as barren as his life had been and remain so until his snakeskin shell melted into oblivion.

            Her eyes would not fill with tears. She could not cry over this. She couldn't even feel connected to this. This was so far away, a thousand miles away. His death, her words, everything was lost in the blue of the sky at the very moment she looked up. The clouds were gathering low on the horizon, simple wisps of white that would not threaten rain. She couldn't feel anything but happy that things had turned out this way.

            But she could not feel that she had done the right thing. In her heart she had cursed him. She had removed his power and his strength, the only things that his life remained to stand on. Without power and strength he had no life and when she took them away he was dead.

            She looked at her hands, still surging with the power he had placed in her blood. She breathed in the fresh air and thought sadly that he could live no other way. He could not live peacefully while there was power to be had. She just couldn't understand how it had consumed him so. She had felt it, yes, she recognized that as the flame at the base of her spine that sometimes licked higher. Yet she had control over it and time and practice had rendered the flame docile. Perhaps Tom Riddle had never mastered his own demon flame, perhaps he had never had control over the thing that would determine his fate as the Lord Voldemort.

            Perhaps Tom Riddle never understood what it was to be human.

            Gwen hardly understood herself.


	119. Epilogue

Episode One Hundred and Nineteen

The students watched every morning for the past few months as the tiny figure emerged from the Forbidden Forest and made its way up to the school. Years passed and yet the DADA teacher never looked any older. She had a bright smile, and that strict demeanor she had learned from her fellow, Professor McGonagall.

She was respected, skilled but most of all feared.

It was only a rumor, a whispered legend in the halls, but many of them had heard about it. They had heard about a woman teacher at Hogwarts who had used old fey magic and subdued an entire group of death eaters long enough for the authorities to arrive. It didn't take the students long to connect Professor LeFey to the rumor and no student would cross her.

And yet, those that took the time to get to know her found her to be simply enchanting. She was kind, warm and more than willing to offer help to a struggling student. She was patient beyond belief and very careful to keep her temper in check.

She had a daughter who had only just started at Hogwarts. She was eleven years old, with long ginger hair and dark blue eyes. The girl's name was Galina. She was very much like her mother at her age, curious, brave and constantly in trouble. She was the sunshine in her mother's life. The day of her sorting had arrived and she was more than anxious.

She squirmed as her mother brushed her hair patiently.

"Mom, I can do it myself." She said, trying to pull the brush out her hand.

"If you can do it yourself why is your hair always messy five minutes later?"

"I can't help it if I have unruly hair; it never does what I want it to. The humidity in this stinking mound doesn't help."

"You will not call your great-great-grandmother's home, this stinking mound again young lady."

"Yes mother." She said mockingly.

Her mother smiled. Galina was particularly testy this morning, but she herself remembered behaving exactly the same the day before her journey to Hogwarts. Galina wouldn't have to ride the Hogwart's Express to get there however, a simple jaunt through the forest and a quick run up the lawns would bring you right to the front doors.

Finally, Gwen relinquished her hold on the brush and Galina swiped at her own head a few times. Gwen suspected that Galina's rather slapdash grooming did not really help her already untidy mop of hair, but she restrained herself from comment. Maintaining an even temper with students was cake, keeping her cool with her own flesh and blood was another task entirely.

Galina looked at her mother lost in thought. She decided there was no better time than the present to ask her question, bothersome though it was. "Mum, do you think he's coming today?"

Gwen winced. She was unaware where the he in question was. They hadn't spoken in months. "Ah, Josephine that's my hair." She said as the milky white cat clawed at her. "Galina, will you get this rampaging ball of fur out of here."

"Sorry mum." She said sullenly, catching the cat in her arms and depositing her in the hallway.

"Sometimes I swear, you two were made for each other."

"You didn't answer my question." Galina said importantly.

"No, I didn't and that's because I don't know the answer."

Galina huffed.

"I'm sorry sweetie." Gwen said sweetly. "You know he's off on important business."

"Is that why we have to stay in the mound?"

"For now, I think it's best. Besides, it's better than being home without him, isn't it?"

Galina rolled her eyes at her mother. "Yeah, I suppose."

They two plunked up to the castle and Gwen kissed her daughter on the cheek while she entered the Great Hall, already filling up with the returning students. "Wait here for Aunt Minerva." She instructed. "But don't you dare call her that in front of the other students."

Galina laughed and did as she was told. Soon enough the other first years arrived from across the lake and joined the girl with the ginger hair on the steps outside of the Great Hall. They entered the hall in a tiny clump of fear and walked all the way to the front of the hall, barely daring to take in all of their surroundings.

Galina had been in here many times, since she was usually visiting nearby, or hanging out with her mother when she wasn't teaching. Yet this was a novel journey. This was her first entrance into this hall as a student and it was equally as exciting for her as for the other first years. She slowly took in her surroundings and noticed three men standing in the back that she might have missed all together for her nerves.

Standing at the back was a tall, gaunt looking man wearing a long sleeved shirt in the dead heat of August. He didn't seem to notice much however and his naturalness about the thing made it much less noticeable. He looked at Guenivere with deep blue eyes like a lover starved of attention. Galina held her breath with excitement. Dad had come home.

Next to him was a very handsome man. He was one of those who aged gracefully, the barely perceptible lines on his face placing him closer to twenty than thirty. His hair was unruly, black and covering his forehead. Had the students looked closely they might have seen a tiny, lightning shaped scar beneath those bangs, faded white with age, He smiled at Professor LeFey like a man in love. Galina couldn't take her eyes off of him and she waved as Uncle Harry locked eyes with her.

There was one more fellow with slick blond hair and piercing gray eyes. He smiled over the proceedings, looking back to his old days at Hogwarts when he had been more than a handful. Galina had heard the stories, but she knew that he had made up for all of his under-achievements in school with the work he had done later for the Order. He was someone she knew as Uncle Draco.

Professor N. Longbottom pulled out the sorting hat and placed it on the stool.

"Sharon Apple?" Longbottom quivered as he called out names. The list continued and finally he had reached the L's. "Galina LeFey?" Came the nervous stutter.

She approached the stool and Professor Longbottom placed the sorting hat over her head. It plunked down over her mop of tangled hair and whispered in her ear.

"Ah, courage, lots of that. Bravery, I see. And of course, strength and amazing power. I think we'd better place you in GRYFFINDOR" The hat shouted to the crowd.

She looked back to see the men, standing and applauding louder than anyone in the hall. She even saw her mother wipe gently at her eyes as she took her place at the Gryffindor table.

The future seemed bright with promise.

The End


End file.
